


Marriage of Convenience

by Agent_Snark



Series: Marriages of Erebor [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, Caucasian Mountain Dogs, Dwarf Courting, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Figrid - Freeform, Fili is a BAMF, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship to Love, Future companion fics?, Fíli Is a Sweetheart, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, My First Work in This Fandom, Sigrid is a BAMF, Time Skips, bagginshield, just a hint, kiliel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-06-25 11:44:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 115,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15640077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agent_Snark/pseuds/Agent_Snark
Summary: Two years after The Battle, pressure mounts for Fili to marry to help secure Erebor's stability. In Dale, Sigrid is being pressured to marry as well. Faced with a series of horrible suitors, the two friends hatch a plan to avoid unhappy marriages - marry each other. The only problem is everyone thinks they're already madly in love. After all, no dwarf would ever willingly pick a human otherwise.





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Fili woke, he wasn’t sure he was awake. Everything hurt. He could feel someone wrapping something around his leg. Excruciating pain lanced up his limb and into his back. He tried to protest, tried to raise his hands but he hurt too much. All he could really move were his eyes. Nearby, towards his feet, he could see his uncle laying on his own cot as healers moved around him, Oin shouted orders for more bandages and hot water and needles and salves. Thorin, hands shaking in his own pain, carefully braided Bilbo’s hair.

Fili tried to protest. Thorin shouldn’t be putting those braids in their burglar’s hair until he was better and they could have a proper ceremony, not until his amad had arrived at least. Dis would be furious to know she’d gained a brother-in-law before she made it to Erebor. And since when had Thorin planned to even propose to Bilbo? He’d known they were close but hadn’t realized they were that close, let alone courting and engaged.

“Smart to have someone immune to gold lust on the throne, even if it is just a consort,” someone murmured nearby.

A marriage of state then, of convenience, not of love.

Fili gagged at the notion.

Someone shouted by his head, calling for something he thought he recognized but couldn’t think of what it was. Everything was so odd, so muddled, so loud. The pain didn’t help. Thorin was finishing the braids in Bilbo’s hair and his hands dropped, exhausted as the King Under the Mountain fell unconscious.

A cup met his lips and he drank reflexively. His throat burned with the effort. He dropped back into oblivion again.

~*~*~*~

The next time Fili opened his eyes, he wasn’t in nearly the same amount of pain. He could feel his hand was loosely wrapped around something and what he thought were two hands kept his fingers in place. He blinked his eyes open slowly, fighting against the dim light of the room. His brother’s sleeping face greeted him.

“Kili?” he asked, voice coming out a rasp. His fingers tightened around what he held, realizing it was his baby brother’s hand.

“He lives.”

Fili looked up, toward the voice. The redheaded elf captain sat at the head of the large bed he and his brother had been placed on. She was the one holding their hands together. What was her name? Kili had taken a liking to her and had mentioned her name more than once. He struggled to think of it.

“I am Tauriel,” the elf said, seemingly noticing his internal struggle. “It is good you are awake. I’ll send for your kin.” She released their hands and went to the door. Instinctively, Fili gripped his brother’s hand tighter. His hand ached at the attempt and dismay coursed through him at how feeble his grip felt even as he held on with all his might. The elf returned.

“How is he?” Fili asked, not looking away from his brother. A few small pink healing scars littered the skin he could see on the younger Durin and on himself. His throat closed up on the last word and he started to cough.

“Here, drink.” Something touched his lips and he obediently opened his mouth. Cool water dripped in and he swallowed reflexively. The amount was too small and he continued to cough until more water was given. Finally, after a few more additions, the coughing ceased.

“We will know more when he wakes laddy.”

Fili struggled to look around, his eyes finally finding Oin entering the room. The healer approached and started checking Fili over, patting and prodding and poking and searching under bandages.

“You’ve been out for almost a month,” Oin explained as he worked. “We weren’t sure you would wake. You have the elf lass here to thank for that. I don’t know as I would have been able to keep you three alive.”

“Three?” Fili asked.

“Aye, three,” Oin said. He looked up, nodding toward the doorway.

Fili followed his gaze and felt his throat constrict again, this time for an entirely different reason. “Uncle Thorin,” he managed to choke out past the lump.

Thorin Oakenshield leaned heavily on a cane in the doorway. He wore clothes similar to what he’d traveled in, minus his armor, just shirt, tunic, and trousers. His crown, any and all finery for that matter, was absent. The only things of any value he wore were the silver beads in his hair and a single, unadorned, silver ring on his left hand. 

“You had us worried, Fili,” Thorin said.

“Sorry,” he croaked. He felt so tired but he didn’t dare take his eyes away from his uncle or his little brother but he had to ask. “The others?”

“All survived,” he said. “You and Kili are the worst.”

“Bilbo?” he had to ask, to make sure the figure he’d seen having marriage braids put in his hair wasn’t a figment of his imagination, brought on by blood loss and whatever mess of medications they’d poured into him.

“Here, Fili. I’m here.” Thorin stepped aside to let the hobbit into the room, his hand instinctively going to rest on the smaller male’s shoulder. Bilbo didn’t even flinch at the contact and Fili marveled a moment. To think he could forgive his uncle and trust him so easily after Thorin had threatened his life.

“Alright, you’ve seen him awake,” Oin said. “Go tell the others while he gets back to sleep. He needs rest. Get some willow bark tea.”

“Yes, Master Oin.” Fili glanced toward the foot of the beds where the voice came from to find a dwarrowdam, probably a bit younger than Kili.

“Drink up lad and sleep,” Oin ordered. “Hopefully the next time you wake your brother will have woken too. You give us more hope.” The old healer helped him sit up enough that he could sip at the bitter tea. Sleep drew him away before he could finish the cup.  
He dreamed of dragon fire and orcs. Gold and death. 

~*~*~*~

The next time he woke, he still held Kili’s hand, this time without assistance from the elf who still sat near their bed, now to the side besides his little brother. Like last time, he first asked after his brother in a croak.

“He woke yesterday,” Tauriel said, a fond smile on her face as she gazed at Kili. “You will both recover from your wounds though it may take a while.”

Fili breathed a sigh of relief and submitted to more nasty tasting teas Oin gave him when the healer arrived. He slept again.

~*~*~*~

He drifted in and out of consciousness for what he was told was the next few weeks. Each time he did, he felt stronger. He started to wake more naturally instead of when the teas and medicines wore off, leaving him in pain. That lessened too, leaving him feeling more willing to try to move on his own. Unfortunately, he never woke when his brother did and he was left yearning to see Kili awake.

It was some time later when Kili’s movements woke him. He’d been dreaming about riding down a river in that barrel that had smelled so strongly of apples when suddenly his hand was shaken violently. He startled slightly, coming to faster than he had in a while. He looked to the side to see his brother reaching his hand into Tauriel’s hair and pulling her down for a kiss.

Feeling generous and just happy to see his little brother awake, Fili gave them a moment of loving contact before saying, “Better not let Uncle catch you.” He snickered as they jumped apart. If they moved that fast at his voice, they’d probably kill themselves trying to seem innocent if Thorin caught them.

“Fili!” Kili gasped and turned where he lay. He wrapped his arms around Fili who returned the hug with just as much enthusiasm. They both cringed when aching, healing wounds made themselves known at the contact. Fili noticed Tauriel head toward the door, presumably to inform someone that they were awake as always happened when he woke.

“It’s good to see you awake Kee,” he said, shifting so their foreheads touched. “Although I’d rather not wake up to the sight of you kissing someone. Couldn’t you let me sleep?”

“Loosen your grip then,” Kili retorted, “or you could just not watch.” He turned his eyes back up to Tauriel as she retook her seat, a grin tugging at his lips. “You’re going to have to get used to the idea though Brother.”

Fili shuddered in mock horror. “Please,” he begged, “don’t make me watch my little brother kiss anyone. The very idea is unbearable.”

Kili laughed and then winced, his ribs straining.

Thorin entered the room with Oin and Bilbo. Fili tried not to flinch at the sight of the marriage braids in his uncle’s and the hobbit’s hair.

Oin started poking and prodding at him before he could start to feel ill at the sight. The process was routine now and Fili was even able to carefully push himself into a sitting position this time to make it easier for Oin to check the wound on his back, the one that should have killed him. The healer then moved the blankets aside to check his broken leg, loosening the splints.

Once Oin had checked him over and Kili as well, he declared, “They’ll both recover though Fili my limp for a long time, possibly forever. Certainly when the weather is poor.” His landing after Azog had thrown him from the tower had broken his leg and done something to the way it sat in the joint with his hip. He would possibly experience pain there every day for the rest of his life.

A ragged cheer erupted from those in the room. And Fili gripped his brother’s hand, glad to hear that the damage done to his innards wasn’t permanent. The infections had been fought off and all open wounds had all but closed entirely, leaving scars they’d carry forever, reminders to be thankful for the lives they still have ahead of them.

~*~*~*~

“This is not the life I wanted for you, my girl.”

“A life of plenty? Of full bellies and the knowledge that it will always be so? That we will not starve when the snows come?”

Bard’s lips quirked up at the corners at her display of optimism. “I had always hoped for that, strived for it. And I am so very, very glad for it to be true now.” His smile faded a little. “I never did, however, want for your life to be decided for political gain.”

A sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. “What do you mean Da?”

“I am Girion’s only heir. Against my wishes and better judgment, I will be crowned as King of Dale. You and your siblings will be crowned as prince and princesses.”

“I’m aware of how lines of royalty work.”

“As a princess-” his grimace deepened at the word “-you will be expected to marry for political advantage Sigrid, and not for love.”

The bottom of her stomach plummeted further but somehow still managed to remain firmly in her torso. “I-I need air,” she stammered and ducked out of their home and headed for the slopes around the Lonely Mountain. 

~*~*~*~

“You jest,” Fili said, trying to laugh off the situation.

Thorin flinched. “Fili, it’s been a year since you recovered. The mountain is being rebuilt. More and more of our people return to the mountain each week. We must look to the future of our people now.”

“How does this affect our people?” Fili demanded. “It’s my personal life.”

“We must create strong political ties with other nations. The easiest way to do so is through marriage.”

File bristled. “You may have been willing to marry for political reasons,” he growled and ignored the way Thorin and Bilbo both winced and glanced at each other furtively, “but I am not. You’ve got ties with the Shire,” he nodded at his uncle’s husband who is the grandson to the ruling Thain of the green country to the west, “and to the elves in Mirkwood through Kili’s engagement to Tauriel. We have Dain and the Iron Hills to the east and those that remain in the Blue Mountains. What more do you want?”

“We have alliances, aye,” Balin said, voice apologetic but matter-of-fact, “but if we are to survive until trade routes are established, we will need as many ties with other kingdoms as we can. The strongest alliances would be created through your marriage.”

“Amad,” Fili said almost pleadingly, looking to his mother who stood to the side of her brother, a scowl on her normally serene face.

“I am sorry Fili,” she said and looked at her feet. Resignation and sorrow rang in her voice. He found no comfort there. “If you had found your One, maybe things would be different but as it stands, we must secure Erebor’s safety.”

Fili didn’t bother responding. Taking up his cane, he turned and left the council room, slamming the door behind him. He would seek out his brother but Kili was off with Tauriel, working with Dori and Ori and the visiting delegation from Mirkwood to find ways to meld traditions from both cultures into a single courtship and wedding. He didn't want to dim his little brother’s happiness with his own grouchy mood.

He’d go to the training grounds if he could but his leg still troubled him greatly. Oin said it was healing better than he had dared hope but that the recovery would still take time. He wouldn’t be able to fight properly for some time yet. He still did what he could but actually sparring with someone, especially with someone that would challenge his skills like Dwalin did, was still out of the question. With rain on the horizon, he hurt even more than normal.

Fili returned to his rooms, grabbed the new travel fiddle he’d had made once a proper craftsman had returned to the mountain, and left the stone walls around him, heading up the slopes to find solitude while he played until his frustrations ceased and he could think clearer. Maybe then he’d be able to find an alternative that his uncle and his advisors had not seen.

The hike up and around the side of the mountain to a secluded area took him longer than it normally would have. Between being thrown off balance by the fiddle case across his back and struggling with his aching leg, the sun was high in the sky. He leaned his cane against the rocks and set his instrument aside. He’d rest before he started to play. He paced, limping heavily without his cursed cane, trying to think of a way around the prospect of an arranged marriage.

“A political marriage is the only way to make the kingdom strong,” he grumbled under his breath. He turned to look at the mountain and he felt his anger grow. 

“Not bloody likely!” he shouted and then jumped as a second voice joined him in the same words. He whirled. A young woman’s head appeared above a grouping of rocks to stare at him. She looked familiar.

“Prince Fili?” she asked, eyes wide in shock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were here.”

He remembered her now. He hadn’t seen her for a few months but he remembered. “Lady Sigrid,” he said. “What are you doing here?” He picked his cane back up and the case to round the rocks to where she was. Her coat was laid out on the ground where she’d been apparently sitting on it out of his view. 

She heaved a sigh as she motioned for him to join her. He did so, leaning his fiddle on the rock gently and setting his cane next to him once he was settled. She sat next to him when he patted the spot on her coat he’d left for her.

“Avoiding politics,” she told him once settled.

“Political woes seem to be going around,” he muttered as he leaned back on his hands and stretched his aching leg out in front of him, trying to take pressure off the joint at his hip. “Which do you face?”

She grimaced. “Expectations for a royal wedding.”

“You too, huh?” he asked and shifted, trying to find a better way to situate his leg.

She crossed her legs in front of her, leaned forward, set her elbow on her knee, and propped her chin in her open palm. “Is King Thorin telling you to marry as well?” she asked looking slightly up at him from her bent position.

“As a newly reestablished kingdom, it’s expected for us to create strong ties with all peoples of Middle Earth. Kili has Tauriel, Uncle has his Hobbit consort, Amad had my father who was a dwarf of the Blue Mountains, and we have kin in the dwarrow of the Iron Hills. All we need now is a solid alliance with men.”

“I thought you had that with the alliance written up with my father and the people of Dale.”

“Written alliances aren’t as strong as marital,” Fili said.

They heaved simultaneous sighs. “Being royal isn’t any fun,” Sigrid said. “Ever since Da slew that dragon and the battle ended he’s been worked to the bone and people now expect so much from my brother, sister, and me. I miss being a bargeman’s daughter, poor though we were.”

Fili nodded. “There are days I miss being a jeweler and musician,” he admitted. “Times were slimmer then but it was honest work and it was easier being a prince in name and nothing more.” They stared at the distance in comfortable but brooding silence for a time before Sigrid threw up her hands.

“I’m tired of thinking about it,” she said. “You say you were a musician before you retook the mountain. Will you play?” she nodded towards his fiddle.

Fili glanced at the case now regretting not grabbing one of the finer instruments. He shrugged though. He’d come up here to play to clear his head. Maybe having an audience would help him remember his time in the Blue Mountains. Pulling the instrument out, he started tuning it. “Any requests?”

Sigrid shook her head. “Do you have perfect pitch?” she asked as she watched him.

He tested the strings and adjusted just a little more. “Yes,” he said. “Do you play an instrument?”

“No,” she said, “but my father used to sing all the time. It’s odd to think of a bargeman knowing musical theory but he does.”

Fili smiled and then drew the bow across the strings. Happy with what he heard he started playing from his seated position. He should stand, he knew, but he just didn't want to deal with the pain in his leg right then. Instead, he concentrated on the piece he played, a drinking song from Ered Luin. Most of what he knew was more fit for taverns over great halls of a recovered kingdom so he rarely played outside of his own rooms these days and he found himself happy to be playing for someone. Sigrid smiled and listened, clapping her hands to the beat for certain songs.

“Oh! I know this one!” she said as he started the intro to a third song.

“Then you should sing,” he said, grinning.

So Sigrid sang the silly song of a young man that went to sea only to fall in love with a mermaid with green hair and pale blue skin on his first voyage. Fili joined in on the chorus. When the song ended, he set his violin aside and applauded her even as she laughed and applauded him.

“Your father isn’t the only one in your family that can sing,” he said. “That was lovely.”

A charming blush rose in her cheeks as she gazed at her lap. “Thank you,” she murmured. “It was nice hearing you play. You’re very good.”

Fili snorted. “I’m well enough,” he said. “It brought in extra coin to play at taverns and inns. Kili plays too and he sings better than I do. I haven’t played with him in a while. I don’t know if he still does.”

“I’m glad you still do,” Sigrid said. “That was fun.” She stretched her arms above her head and he heard faint cracking sounds race up her back. “Thanks. I needed something fun today.”

He grinned at her. “You’re welcome.” They stared back at the view again, Fili keeping his fiddle on his lap, wondering if he should play something more when a raven dropped to the rocks next to them and pecked at his good leg and squawked at him. He sighed. “Fun time’s over,” he said. “I’m being summoned.” He looked at the bird. “Let him know I’m on my way down but it will take a while. Leg and all.” The bird took off as Fili started packing up his fiddle. As he stiffly rose to his feet, Sigrid stood as well and offered a polite smile as she gathered up her coat, shaking the dirt and dust off it.

“I’m glad I ran into you today,” she said.

“Me too,” he said. “I hope to see you again soon. Good luck with your suitors.”

She rubbed a hand down her face. “I wish you hadn’t reminded me,” she groused but her lips twitched in a half smile. “Good luck your highness,” she said, dipping into a curtsey.

He bowed and bid her farewell, heading back toward the path he’d originally climbed, leaning heavily on his cane. By the time he reached the road to Erebor pain was lancing up his leg and spine. He managed to flag down a cart and get a ride into the city on the back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The suitors start to arrive in Dale and Erebor alike.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those that have kudo'd, commented, subscribed, and/or read the previous chapter. You make me all so very happy. Please continue to subscribe and leave comments.
> 
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
> 
> I hope to regularly update every Friday. As I am trying to stay a few chapters ahead of what I've posted, it's a likely to actually happen.

“Where have you been?” Kili asked when Fili limped his way into their rooms to put his fiddle away and change clothes.

“Up the mountain,” Fili said and went into his room.

“What? Outside?”

“Yes, outside,” Fili said, poking his head out of his bedroom door. He tugged a clean undershirt on and went back to grab a clean tunic. “This morning wasn’t exactly great so I decided to get some fresh air.”

“Was it worth the pain in your leg?”

Fili paused in doing up the laces on his trousers. Was it? The memory of bright grey-green eyes and a sweet voice singing along to his fiddle flashed through his mind. “Yes,” he said, “it was.” He returned his focus to the task of dressing.

Kili appeared in his doorway. “I smell a story,” he said. After taking a look at his older brother’s room, he added, “either that or something in here has started to rot.”

Fili rolled his eyes. “I’ll clean up later,” he said, ignoring the piles of clothes and weapons and other odds and ends laying around. He picked up a pair of boots and sat down to pull them on.

“Well?” Kili asked after a moment. “What happened?”

“Remember Sigrid?”

“The oldest Bardling?”

“She’s not much of a Bardling anymore,” Fili said. “She’s grown. She was hiding on the mountain too. Said suitors are going to start arriving to court her any day.”

“Probably because word about Bard’s upcoming coronation has gotten out with the last few trading expeditions.” Kili carefully stepped over the piles of stuff in his brother’s room and started handing him knives and other weapons from the pile Fili was pulling them from and hiding them on his person.

Fili picked up his twin swords last before heading for their door.

“Fee,” Kili called and tossed something round to his brother. Fili caught it instinctively and groaned.

“Do I have to?” he asked.

“Yep,” Kili said. “You have to be all crown princely,” he said as he grabbed the simple silver circlet that depicted his station as a prince.

“Hate this thing,” Fili growled but dutifully put the gold coronet on his head. “It’s so uncomfortable.”

“Then make a new one or pick a different one. Uncle said you could.”

“Good idea,” Fili turned to head toward the royal treasury.

“Later,” Kili said. “First we have to go watch Dwalin beat up a girl who thinks she’s good enough for Erebor’s crown prince.”

File rolled his eyes. “Oh joy.”

~*~*~

The first of the suitors arrived two days after Sigrid had met Fili on the mountainside. A messenger was sent to their home the day before to warn them and Sigrid spent the evening banging her head against her writing desk, wondering if she should go hide on the mountain again or fake an illness. Seeing her father didn’t help. He looked resigned and upset at the prospect even as he read the missive to her, the corners of his lips tugged down in a frown and his brow furrowed. The hike up the mountain sounded more and more appealing the more time passed. Maybe she’d meet Fili up there.

After spending a horrible portion of her morning being cinched into corsets and all the trappings for such a meeting and having her hair curled, pinned, prodded, and yanked, Sigrid was in a decidedly foul mood. She wanted to just rip out all the finery in her hair and wind it back into her usual braid across the top of her head and bundle the rest at the nape of her neck. She didn’t even want to think about the corset restricting her breathing.

The arrival of her suitor did nothing to help her mood. He stood eye level with her. His clothing was fine. Finer than anything worn by the people of Dale except on the most special of occasions, in rich heavy fabrics unfit for the time of year. A few strands of grey streaked through his frizzing brown hair. She placed him in his mid-thirties at least, if not his forties. He smiled at her upon meeting her but it didn’t reach his eyes. He bowed over her hand and placed a kiss that lingered a little too long. 

“My Lady Sigrid,” he intoned and she tried not to wince at the nasal tone to his mid-range voice as it grated on her ears. “Please allow me to inform you of my utmost sincerity in my desire to court you,” he said. That was the politest thing he said the entire day as he squired her around Dale with his manservant and one of the maids following at a respectable distance. They seemed to have a much better time than Sigrid. She spent the rest of the day only half listening to him prattle on about the splendor of his home and how he wouldn’t find anything of such low craftsmanship there, that nothing in Dale was worthy to grace the wealth of his halls. When he finally returned her to her home, Sigrid smiled politely.

“Thank you for a lovely day,” she said, “but I’m afraid it will be our last together. As you made clear, nothing in Dale is worthy in your halls. I’m afraid I would just be out of place there. Better to end things now before any awkwardness can arise.”  
Before he could process her words, let alone protest, she slammed the door in his face and stalked up the stairs toward her room.

“Sigrid?” Bard called after her.

She poked her head back around the corner at the top of the staircase so she could peer down at him, even as she started yanking pins out of her hair. “I could never be prevailed upon to marry such an arrogant man.”

“Thank the Valar,” Bard sighed. “I would have had to question your sanity if you liked him.”

~*~*~

Two days after that, Sigrid received word that her suitor had left Dale in a huff, telling all that would listen how poor the Lady of Dale’s manners were. Sigrid rolled her eyes but otherwise ignored the report. She went to the market to start making apologies to every merchant for the behavior of the visitor and to assure them that she in no way whatsoever agreed with his snobbish ideas. Most stall owners had just smiled at her apologies, telling her that they knew she did not agree with the man but that they appreciated her efforts. Those that didn’t know her well accepted her apology. 

She was just turning to leave the markets again when someone called her. She turned and smiled at the voice. “Prince Fili, Prince Kili.” She curtsied. “What brings you to Dale?”

“Hiding from prospective courtship challenges,” Kili said with a grin. Fili jabbed him in the side with an elbow.

“My sympathies,” Sigrid said, making eye contact briefly with the older brother. “I’ve been dealing with the results of one such myself.”

Fili winced. “Did it go badly then?” he asked.

“I’ve never met a man with poorer manners,” she said, “and I met your uncle at his worst.”

“Not quite his worst,” Fili said, “but close.”

“Would you care to join us?” Kili asked, “or are you busy?” he dodged an elbow from his brother easily, twisting out of the way.

Sigrid smiled. “I wouldn’t want to impose,” she said.

“You wouldn’t be,” Fili admitted. “We really are just wasting time and staying out of Erebor for the day.”

“Then I’d be delighted,” Sigrid said. Fili offered her his arm and she wrapped her hand around his bicep so he could escort her around the market.

“Hey what’s this?” Kili asked after a few minutes of wandering. “Smells delicious.”

“Good afternoon Mistress Baker,” Sigrid said to the vendor of the stall Kili was salivating over. “Could we have three of your best pies?”

“Of course Lady Sigrid,” the woman replied and wrapped up the requested items. Sigrid handed her a few coins and then gave Fili and Kili each one of the deep-fried packets. Kili bit into his with delight and moaned at the taste.

“This is fantastic,” he said after he swallowed, giving the baker a smile. “Gonna have to have Bombur come to beg the recipe off you Mistress Baker.”

“It’s just a simple ham and cheese pie, Master Dwarf. Nothing fancy to be so excited about but I thank ye for yer words.” the woman said demurely.

“It’s still good,” Kili said, eating another bite with gusto. “I’d like to know what you can make that is fancy.”

“Have the Lady bring you around for the midsummer festival,” the woman said, nodding towards Sigrid. “There will be all sorts of fine food for ye then.”

“I’ll just have to do that,” Kili said, winking.

“Come on, Kee,” Fili called as he and Sigrid continued on after nodding to the baker.

“Is he always this excited about food?”

“Only food he likes, so yes.”

Sigrid hid her smile by biting into her own pie

“He’s not wrong about these though,” Fili told her. “They are good.”

“What’s a midsummer festival?” Kili asked, catching up to them.

Sigrid blinked at him. “Dwarves don’t celebrate midsummer?”

The princes shook their heads.

“It’s just a holiday,” she told them. “It’s the longest day of the year so we take the time to enjoy it. There’s food, games, dancing, and lots of vendors come to show off their best wares. I thought the dwarf vendors would know about it by now. I’m pretty sure there are locations set aside for them throughout the city grounds. I’m not sure if any have reserved them yet.”

“If they have it hasn’t made it to our knowledge,” Kili said.

Fili wiped his fingers on his trouser leg after eating the last bite of his pie. “I’ll make sure they’re aware of it. Who should they talk to in order to reserve a spot?”

“Me.”

“You?” Kili asked.

“Yes. I’ve been helping organize the event. I’m in charge of the vendor stalls.”

“I’ll get the word out to the guilds as soon as we get back,” Fili said.

They walked along a little further, chatting about the festival that would occur in three weeks. Sigrid suddenly stopped and motioned toward another stall. “Do you mind?” she asked Fili. “I promised Tilda I’d get her something.” She let go of Fili’s arm and went to speak to the vendor briefly.

“I like her,” Kili said to Fili. “You should court her.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Fili said. “As the heir, I can’t initiate a courtship. Besides, I barely know her and she's just a friend.”

“That rule is useless. Do it anyway.”

“Kee, I can’t.”

“Just do it.”

“I can’t.”

"Do it."

"I can't."

“Can’t, or won’t? Are you afraid Lady Sigrid will say no?”

Fili reached out lighting quick and wrapped his little brother into a headlock. “Let it go, Kee,” he warned. “Just because you found your One and didn’t have to go through all this courting disaster before we retook Erebor, doesn’t mean I don’t have to go through with it.”

“Everything all right?” Sigrid asked as she rejoined them.

Fili tightened his grip a little before releasing Kili. “Yes,” he said, offering his arm again. “Just having a friendly conversation with my little brother.”

“I think I believe that as much as I believe Da when he says he didn’t eat the last of the biscuits.” She slid her hand back around his arm and they set off again to spend the rest of the day wandering the market before Fili and Kili escorted her back home before heading back to the mountain themselves.

~*~*~

The next week, another suitor came to call. He was closer to her age and the most obsequious man she’d ever met, including how Alfrid had acted around the Master of Lake Town. Within the first two hours of his company, Sigrid was looking for any excuse to get rid of the man. It was as they passed the guard post near the town walls and someone called her name that the opportunity presented itself.

“Lady Sigrid!”

She turned, grateful to have someone interrupt the young man escorting her as he spoke words of her beauty that he had obviously rehearsed, probably for a few weeks considering how little feeling he put into the words.

“Captain Smytheson,” she greeted, smiling at the older gentleman dressed in light armor with a sword at his side. “How good it is to see you!”

“And you as well, My Lady. We haven’t seen you here at the Post in a few days. I hope your skills haven’t gotten rusty.”

“Skills?” the suitor asked. Sigrid kicked herself mentally realizing she had completely forgotten his name.

“Aye,” Smytheson said, not caring to wait for introductions. “The lass is quite skilled with a blade. She’s trained with us since we started rebuilding Dale. Why don’t you two come to the grounds and you can see just how good she is?”

Sigrid was about to protest but at the distressed look on her suitor’s face, she decided she would do as Smytheson suggested. “I’d love to,” she said. With no choice, her suitor accompanied her to the training grounds where Sigrid took up a practice sword. She ignored the alarmed noise the young man made when she swung it a few times, checking the balance and heft of the dulled blade.

“I’ll go easy on you My Lady, considering your state of dress and that it’s been a few days since you trained.” Smytheson took his place opposite her on the training ground.

“Your loss then,” Sigrid said as they saluted each other. She danced to the side of Smytheson’s sudden attack, shifting just out of his reach and bringing her own sword around to swat him across the shoulder with the flat of the blade. The captain spun and grinned at her before advancing again, this time more cautiously. The bout only lasted a few minutes longer, ending with Sigrid being disarmed. When Sigrid yielded with a grin, Smytheson lowered his blade and slung an arm around her shoulders.

“Well fought My Lady,” he said.

“Perhaps I am a bit rusty,” Sigrid said.

“I’ll expect you to start coming back to training every day then, shall I?”

“Absolutely,” Sigrid said as she returned her practice blade. She turned to her suitor who was considerably paler than when they’d walked into the guard post’s training yard.

“I do apologize,” the man said, “but I have just realized something that I’d completely forgotten I must attend to. Do forgive me. Will you be all right on your own?”

Sigrid blinked, casting a quick glance at Smytheson before she nodded. “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Good day.”

“Good day, Lady Sigrid. I wish you luck in your endeavors.” He turned tail and all but ran from the guard post.

“Well,” Sigrid said to no one in particular. “That was unexpectedly beneficial.”

Smytheson burst out laughing. “My Lady, I think you scared the poor man out of his mind.”

“I haven’t a clue as to how,” she said.

The captain snorted. “The young lord probably can’t stand the idea of his intended being able to best him in a fight.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes. “That’s ridiculous. Being a woman isn’t going to protect me from an attacker.”

Smytheson nodded. “Very true My Lady. I’ll see you tomorrow for training.”

Sigrid smiled and curtsied to him before heading home. At dinner that evening her father asked about her outing. When she told her what had occurred, he laughed louder than the guard captain had. “Good for you my girl,” he said. “If a man can’t handle having a strong, independent wife that can defend herself, he’s not worthy of you.”

“Thanks, Da,” Sigrid said. “Keep that in mind when I ask you to send them to the training yard to meet me. They can get an idea of my skills before the day even starts and hopefully it’ll save me from a lot of ninnies that can’t handle the idea.”

~*~*~

Fili suffered through four courtship challenges. Luckily, Dwalin had been Thorin’s guard on the days the requests were made so he didn’t have to do anything except be present for the initial meetings. Once the dwarrowdam yielded to Dwalin in combat, they had to leave with no hope of courting him.

The fifth courtship request, however, came when Dwalin was not on duty. Instead, it was one of his admittedly more competent guards but still not as skilled as the Captain himself. The soldier lost the battle.

When the initial Gift was presented, Fili stifled a groan. A crown. Of all the stupid, thoughtless things to be presented with, the simpering dwarrowdam gifted him with a silver crown. The bulky, heavy thing was decorated with garnets and citrines and aquamarine stones. It was a gaudy thing. And the number of precious stones seemed to be an attempt at covering up the fact that the workmanship wasn’t at all up to standards for a royal prince.

“I don’t accept,” he said blandly, tossing the crown back to the herald. “Your workmanship is poor, your choice in stones is ridiculous, and your taste is gaudy. Your choice in gift shows naught but your desire to become part of the royal family and thus displays your lack of honor. I would never consider such a one as seeks my favor only for my position.” He nodded to his uncle who inclined his head in acceptance of his decision before turning and leaving the throne room. He retrieved his fiddle once again and headed up the mountainside.

“Imagine seeing you here.”

Fili looked toward the voice and saw Sigrid once again leaning against the same rock as the one he’d found her at weeks before.

“Hello,” he greeted. “Escaping political woes again?”

Sigrid’s lips quirked up in a half smile. “My last suitor wasn’t shy about voicing his displeasure that I wasn’t a – now how did he put it? Oh yes- a ‘delicate flower of a fair maiden’ and more of a ‘bruiser in a dress.’ I’m hiding from the disapproving looks from my father’s council.”

Fili snorted in laughter before he could stop himself.

“Oh, ha, ha,” Sigrid groused. “What about you? Why are you up here again?” She scooted aside, indicating for him to sit on her laid out jacket with her again.

He did so with a groan, setting his cane and fiddle case next to him as he did so. “Dwalin wasn’t on duty with Uncle today. The dwarrowdam seeking a courtship beat the guard that was on duty. The gift she presented afterward was so ridiculous and in such poor taste and intentions that I turned her down without a second thought. It still wasn’t any fun though. I much prefer when Dwalin is able to beat them before they get anywhere near me.”

Sigrid stared at him, utterly confused. “I get the feeling that courting for your people and courting for mine is a very different matter.”

“I’d rather not think about it,” Sigrid said. She eyed his fiddle case. “I’d rather hear you play again.”

Fili gave a long-suffering sigh but readily pulled out his fiddle. “Any requests?” he asked as he quickly tuned it. Sigrid shook her head. “Then sing ‘The Mermaid’ for me again,” he said and started playing the introduction. Sigrid rolled her eyes good-naturedly and started to sing along.

Fili played for an hour or so with her singing the songs she knew. When he set the fiddle aside, they sat back to stare at the scenery and talk.

Sigrid spoke of her family, of her brother and sister and father. Fili spoke of Kili and Thorin and his mother Dis. He told her parts of the journey from Ered Luin to Erebor. She laughed loudly at his retelling of the troll incident. He smiled as she told him about a time when Bain had tried to draw his father’s bow when the weapon was taller than him and had somehow ended up upside down with his foot stuck in a pot and a bundle of herbs stuck in his hair.

It wasn’t until the sun was setting that they parted ways.

~*~*~

Sigrid’s fourth suitor showed promise. He was her age, well dressed but not too well for an outing in a city such as Dale. He arrived at the time he had designated and his manservant stood a respectful distance away. Most importantly, he didn’t shrink away or run screaming when he saw her training with the guard captain. She should have expected as much from Lord Graham of Rohan, a distant cousin to the current king.

“Good morning, Lady Sigrid,” he greeted her as she set her practice blade aside. “Are you ready to go?”

Sigrid smiled at him. “I’m sorry my training went over long this morning,” she said. “I need to return home for a little before I’m prepared. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said.

“I’ll be back shortly,” Sigrid said and headed home.

She raced up the stairs to her room to change quickly, the maids meeting her there to help her into the complicated corsets and petticoats and other parts of her dress as her father stood outside her door.

“At least this one didn’t run screaming at the sight of you armed,” he called through the wood, sounding amused.

“He shows more promise than the last three,” she admitted. “He’s the closest to my age as well.”

She heard Bard make a noise of agreement on the other side of the door. She opened it and showed him the dress she’d just been cinched into. “What do you think?” she asked.

“Lovely,” Bard said. “If I didn’t know better, my girl, I’d think you might be trying to impress the man.”

Sigrid made a face. “Not hardly,” she grumbled. “I didn’t pick it out and it’s too tight.” She put a hand to her ribcage and tried to take a deep breath, failing miserably when the corset squeezed. “Remind me again why I have to dress in the height of fashion?”

“I have no idea,” Bard said. “Ask Tilda. She seems to understand these things.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes and left to meet her suitor.

The day passed rather well, she thought. The conversation did not flow easily but it did exist. He asked of her training and the reconstruction of Dale. She asked him of Rohan and the culture there. When he returned her to her door, she felt content, that perhaps she could learn to like the man. If nothing more, she would probably gain a friend in him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song "The Mermaid" mentioned in this chapter (and hinted at in the last) is sung by Great Big Sea. Check it out if you have time. It's rather fun and amusing.
> 
> Please subscribe, kudo, and/or comment. Comments are a writer's bread and butter. We write better when we know people enjoy our work. Please, stroke our egos.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili's sick of courtship challenges and takes a chance to get to Dale, only to give Sigrid a bit of a helping hand and then a gift.
> 
> Midsummer Festival is here, including a swordsmanship competition.
> 
> A little flirting ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mention of attempted assault (nothing graphic). Please read accordingly.

Chapter 3

Another dwarrowdam fell to Dwalin’s superior skill. How many was this now? Six? Seven? Fili didn’t feel like keeping count. It didn’t help that Kili thought the entire situation was hilarious and took every moment he had reminding Fili of that. So, when Thorin asked for one of them to go to Dale to check on the progress for the midsummer festival the Men were holding, Fili volunteered with enthusiasm. 

Anything to get him away from courtship trials and the doe eyes his brother kept casting at the ever-present she-elf. He had nothing against her, but the lovey-dovey gooey romantic nonsense was driving him insane.

Knowing Sigrid was involved in the planning, Fili entered Dale with the intention of going straight to her home. After stabling his pony and asking directions, he set off toward the center of town. As he walked, he heard snippets of gossip. He’d been around Nori too much, he thought even as he eavesdropped on the two women walking in front of him as unobtrusively as possible. Any information had potential, the spymaster always said, so Fili listened.

“I’ve seen them together almost every day since he arrived a fortnight ago,” the younger said. “Her Ladyship is smitten with him.”

“And who can blame the girl?” the older woman demanded with a huff. “The man is rather something to look at.”

The first sighed. “Lady Sigrid is lucky to have caught his regard.”

“She’s rather pretty herself. It’s surprising she hasn’t married already.”

“She is rather picky.”

“Doesn’t seem to matter this time though. I expect they’ll announce a betrothal within the month.”

The first sighed. “Wouldn’t that be something? Our own Lady married and to such a handsome gentleman. Their children would be sure to be beautiful.”

Sigrid was seeing a suitor? Often enough her people were expecting a betrothal? Why hadn’t he heard about this in the mountain? Nori was slipping if it really was that serious. If Sigrid married her suitor, it could impact Erebor, or at least his people that sold wares in the market in Dale. She was the only member of her family that took the time to talk to the dwarrow, or so he’d heard. His people liked her and were more than willing to work with her. If she left, who would they go to? Who would he talk to when he came to the city? He’d be without his friend.

A scuffle pulled him from his thoughts a few blocks from where he was told Sigrid’s house was. Curious, and admittedly wondering if he could join in a fight to work off some of his inexplicable but completely justified annoyance, he turned down the street toward the noise.

“Get away from me.”

Fili paused. That sounded like Sigrid.

“I think you misunderstood me My Lady.” The voice was male. Fili frowned harder at the placating tone to it.

“I misunderstood nothing. Get. Away.” 

Something hit a wall and there was a grunt.

“You really shouldn’t have done that,” the male voice said.

Fili rounded the bend at the end of the street quickly. His earlier irritation roared into a hot storm in his chest. Sigrid strained against the man holding her wrists down by her waist and standing so close she couldn’t land a kick of any force.

“What’s going on here?” Fili barked.

“Get lost dwarf,” the man said, glancing at him. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Not from where I’m-”

Sigrid leaned back as far as she could against the wall and lunged forward, smashing her forehead into her captor’s nose, a crunch interrupting Fili. He lurched away from her, his hands going to his broken nose.

“-standing.” Fili finished. “I suggest you leave immediately,” he added and extended a hand to Sigrid even as she started moving toward him.

“I told you to get lost,” the man said, still holding his nose with one hand, ignoring the blood dripping down his chin. He reached out to grab Sigrid’s arm and drag her back.

Fili darted forward. He lashed out with his cane, bringing it down hard on the man’s arm with a solid thwack. The man yelped and Sigrid darted to stand near Fili. Still brandishing his cane as he would one of his swords, Fili stepped so he stood in front of the girl. He reached inside his coat and pulled out one of his many daggers, feeling more secure with an actual blade in hand, even if it was short. “And I told you to leave,” Fili said coolly, ignoring the pain darting up his bad leg. He waited, watching the Man until he finally turned and stalked up the alley, blood still dripping from his nose.

“Next time you break someone’s nose to get away,” Fili said as he sheathed his knife and leaned on his cane again, “try actually running.”

Sigrid glared at him, one hand clutching at her lower ribcage. “You try running while wearing a corset and a dress this heavy,” she snapped. “I can barely breathe while I walk, let alone fight or run. Besides, you were here so I didn’t need to.”

Fili turned to face her fully. The tremor in her voice didn’t reassure him even though she acted fine otherwise. It reminded him too much of when Bilbo got upset.

“Are you all right Lady Sigrid?” he asked.

“No, I’m not,” she said and her voice cracked a bit. She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. “Thank you for coming when you did.”

“You know me,” he said and reached up to place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m the master of heroic rescues.”

Sigrid laughed wetly and sniffed, wiping more tears from her eyes. “I seem to remember you tackling an orc for me once.”

“Exactly what I mean,” Fili said, smiling at her. When the tears didn’t stop, he lifted his other arm out to his side, leaving himself open for a hug if she wanted it. Sigrid bent and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Fili asked.

“No,” Sigrid said, voice muffled by the fur on his jacket. “I don't know as he would have. I think he just wanted to steal some kisses.”

“I'm glad you're not hurt,” Fili said. He stood with her until she calmed down, rubbing her back gently until her shoulders stopped shaking and she finally pulled away, retrieving a handkerchief from a pocket and wiping at her eyes and nose.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Fili said and offered his arm. “Why don’t I escort you home?”

Sigrid nodded, wrapping her hand around his bicep and let him lead her away. “I think I’ll get a dog,” she murmured.

“As I understand it, you’ve been learning to use a sword for over a year now. Why don’t you just carry one? They tend to make a bit less mess around the home than a furry, slobbery menace.”

Sigrid made a very irritated face. “I would but ever since one of my suitors went running at the very sight of a blade on my person my father’s council has forbidden me to carry one on outings such as this one.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Fili said. “Why in Mahal’s name would you carrying a sword scare anyone off?”

“I don’t know how it is for dwarves, but among my people, males are often afraid of or offended by women wielding swords. Heaven forbid we should be able to defend ourselves. I think the people of Rohan are more sensible but I haven’t heard of any others.”

“Ridiculous,” Fili repeated. They walked along in silence for a time and Fili watched the people around them out of habit. He watched as the eyes of a few people followed them, a few whispered conversations cropping up behind them. He wished for Bilbo’s hearing, wanting to know the nature of those conversations and the furtive pointing and head nodding. To distract himself from the sight, he asked, “So, why a dog?”

“I trust a dog’s judgment better than my own. If I train one well enough it can be my guard dog for when my chaperone gets drawn away by feeble excuses as happened today.”

“The council wouldn’t mind you having a large hound at your side on outings?”

Sigrid waved to someone, a fake smile plastered on her face. Fili scowled a little at the sight. Could he get her to laugh or at least smile for real instead of that mockery on her face? “Not if it was well-behaved. There wouldn’t be a reason for me not to have it along with me.”

They fell silent again as they walked the rest of the way to Sigrid’s home. Once there, Sigrid turned to make her farewells only for Fili to tell her of his original errand for being in Dale.

“Oh! Well, then. Come inside. I’ll gather my information on decisions made and we can go over it.”

Fili took a seat in a sitting room where she indicated and sat back to wait for her return. A dog. She wanted a dog. He knew of a few hunters in the mountain that had hounds. Perhaps one of them would know where he could get a pup. It’d been a while since he’d been around dogs but perhaps he could help Sigrid in finding a way to defend herself and perhaps have an excuse to spend time with her. Sigrid’s return pulled him from his musings and together they went over the current plans for the midsummer festival.

~*~*~

Someone knocked on the door first thing the morning of the midsummer festival.

Bard looked up from his breakfast. He rarely ate with his family in the mornings, usually gone to help with repairs and meetings and the minutia of running a city before any of his children woke, except maybe Tilda who had a tendency to wake early as well. “Whatever problem they’re bringing, I don’t want to know about it,” he grumbled. “I’m taking today for my family.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes as she rose from the table and went to the door. “Oh Da, it’s probably just a quick question.” She opened the door and looked down slightly at the dwarf standing on their doorstep.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’ve been sent to deliver a package to you My Lady,” the dwarf said, bowing to her. He then bent and picked up a crate sitting at his feet. He held it out to her.

“Ah, thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome My Lady,” the dwarf said and bowed again. With a cheery whistle, he trotted down the path back to the road and headed towards the market.

“Well that was interesting,” Sigrid said and turned back inside. There was an envelope attached to the top of the crate with her name on it. After closing the door behind her, she balanced the admittedly somewhat heavy crate in one arm and reached for the envelope. Something inside the crate scrabbled sideways, overbalancing it. She dropped it with a scream.

“Sigrid?” Bard asked, leaning back in his chair to get a better look at his daughter.

“Something moved in the crate,” she said. She reached out and snatched up the envelope. She flipped it over and blinked in surprise. “Uh, Da? I think this should probably go to you.”

“Why’s that my girl?” he asked. He stood from the table and walked into the 

“What’s in the crate Sig?” Bain asked coming into the room with Tilda right behind him.

Sigrid handed the envelope to Bard. “It has the Durin’s royal seal on it,” she said. Bard examined the envelope for a moment before handing it back.

“Has your name on it,” he said. “It’s definitely for you.”

Something scratched at the walls of the crate and Sigrid jumped back from it with a shout.

“Huh,” Bain said and bent to look closer. “I’ll open it, shall I?” He asked and went to find the right tools.

While he left, Sigrid opened the letter, carefully breaking the blue wax seal and pulling the parchment out to read.

 

To Sigrid, Lady of Dale, Daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer

We spoke of this the other day. I hope this will help put your mind at ease and soon offer the safety you require. I would be happy to help you in your endeavors with proper instruction and care. I’ll meet you on the path to our meeting spot this morning.

-F

PS He’s house trained.

 

“House trained?” Sigrid mouthed the last two words, wondering what on earth that meant.

“A puppy!”

Sigrid jumped at Tilda’s joyous cry and looked at the now open crate. Inside, a fluffy greyish brown ball scrabbled its way around the cloth-lined box.

“The Dwarf King sent you a dog?” Bard asked. “Why?”

“Not the king,” Sigrid said, a smile slowly spreading across her face as a black muzzle turned its way toward her and two brown eyes blinked up at her from the depths of the masses of fur. “His nephew.”

“Which one?” Bard asked and reached a hand into the crate. The puppy reared up on its hind legs to reach for Bard’s hand, pulling it closer and started nibbling on his fingers. He pulled his hand away sharply. “No biting,” he ordered, giving its nose a little flick. The puppy sneezed and then grinned up at Bard, panting.

“The crown prince,” Sigrid said. She reached down and patted the masses of fluff.

“Fili?” Bard asked. “Why would he send you a dog?”

“Remember when he escorted me home a couple weeks ago after pox-ridden skamelar attacked me?”

“Aye,” Bard said, his ire rising again at the mention of the suitor that had seemed so nice but had hurt his little girl. 

“I’d mentioned thinking about getting a dog to deter such things from happening again to Prince Fili. Apparently, he decided it was a good idea. Oh yes, yes. You’re adorable.” She laughed as the puppy licked at her arms. She lifted it out to examine it. “Little man,” she said after a moment. “What should we call you?”

“He’s yours, Sig,” Bain said. “You name him.” He reached over and patted the dog on the top of the head. It gave out a whiny growl and barked at him. “Hmm… Doesn’t seem to like men,” he muttered.

Sigrid and Tilda laughed, the younger girl petting the ball of fluff as Sigrid looked him over. “Look at the size of his paws. He’s going to be massive,” she said. 

Bard sighed. “And he’s a gift from the Crown Prince of Erabor so we can’t get rid of him. Well, good luck my girl,” he said and stood. He went back to the table to finish his breakfast. “We’d better hurry if we’re to make it to the beginning of the festivities.”

“Yes Da,” the three children chorused.

Sigrid offered the puppy some ham from their breakfast before finding a long, sturdy scarf in her closet that she used to fashion a sling out of. Once she was otherwise ready to go, she slipped the puppy into the sling. It popped its head above the cloth and licked her chin before facing forward to watch their surroundings.

Once outside, Sigrid split away from her family and headed straight out of the city, heading towards the path she took up the mountainside. She didn’t get far before someone whistled. She turned to find the source of the noise.

“Your Highness!” she called, waving to Fili as he approached her, leaning slightly on his cane.

“I see you got my gift,” he said with a smile.

Sigrid laughed. “The look on my da’s face was a sight to behold when he saw what was in the crate,” she said. 

Fili’s smile stretched wider. “Do you like him then?” he asked, nodding at the dog that watched him from its position in the sling.

“Yes, very much,” Sigrid said. “Although I’m a little worried about how large he will be.”

“I thought you would appreciate a dog that would be easily large enough to make any man hesitate at the sight of him.”

“Just how big will he get?” Sigrid asked, finally coming to a stop as they reached each other. Fili held up a hand that reached the bottom of his ribcage.

“His sire stands this tall at the shoulder on all fours,” he said and Sigrid’s eyes widened.

“Absolutely massive then,” she said. 

“I hope I haven’t caused you an inconvenience,” Fili said, concern flashing across his face.

“Oh, no, no you haven’t at all,” Sigrid said. “I just wasn’t expecting such a large size. He’s wonderful.” She laughed as the puppy turned its head and licked her chin again.

“Have you named him then?” Fili asked.

Pulling the puppy from the sling and setting him on the ground where he could run around them, she said, “I think I’ll call him Magnus.”

Fili grinned. “A fierce and noble name for what I’m sure will be a fierce and noble companion.” They watched as the puppy tripped over its front paws while it pursued a butterfly and rolled tail over snout before popping back up and looking back at them as if to say he’d meant to do that all along. “Someday,” Fili added.

Sigrid laughed aloud and chased after the puppy. “Come here, Magnus.”

“I’ll show you how to train him if you’d like,” Fili said once they’d caught the fur ball.

Sigrid buried her nose in Magnus’ fur to hide her shy smile. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll show you the basics for today,” he said. “Can we meet at our spot once a week?”

“Sounds perfect,” she said. “It’ll be something to look forward to when I’m being bored to tears by suitors.”

Fili returned her smile. “Great, let’s get started.” He pulled out a bag full of small chunks of dried meat. “You’ll want to carry something like this everywhere you go with Magnus.”

Sigrid took the pouch and together, they started training the dog, teaching him to pay attention and sit that first day using both vocal commands and hand signals. Fili taught her some khuzdul so others wouldn’t easily be able to give commands.

Sigrid frowned when Fili taught her the phrase for 'watch.' “I thought your language was secret. Won’t people get angry?”

“Your pronunciation is so bad, dwarrow won’t be able to understand you anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so.”

After an hour or so of instruction and when Magnus started just laying down at every opportunity, they called it a day for training and Sigrid picked the puppy up and loaded him back into the sling. He didn’t even bother to lift his head out, instead just snuggled in and fell asleep.

“Good boy,” Sigrid said, scratching his fuzzy ears. She looked up at Fili. “It’s early. Would you like to come down to the midsummer festival?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose on your people’s celebration,” he hedged.

Sigrid shook her head. “You wouldn’t be imposing. Please come? It’s been so long since there was a proper festival for my people. It’s sure to be wonderful and I’m sure the vendors from Erebor would feel more secure in their acceptance there if one of their princes were to attend.”

“I’m sure Uncle will appreciate my efforts in solidifying the alliance between our people,” he admitted with a smirk. “All right, I’ll come.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid said.

“Shall we?” Fili asked, indicating the way she’d originally come with his cane and offering his arm on his good side to her. She smiled and took it and together they returned to the main road and reentered Dale.

The festival was in full swing by the time they managed to make their way into the town center. Much of the repair efforts had started at the town center and radiated outward. Most of the buildings here were repaired or completely rebuilt and shone. Banners hung across the streets and fiery reds and bright, sunny yellows, pendants fluttered in the breezes atop buildings and walls, celebrating the summer and the city. Children raced through the crowds laughing and playing games. A few homemade kites flew from the walls, their strings held be eager children. Vendors made a rousing trade both from their stalls and from workers that wandered the crowds with their wares on trays. Fili noted several dwarrow among them and among those present to enjoy the festivities. Entertainers of both races weaved their ways through the crowds as well, juggling, breathing fire, telling stories, even a few Men on stilts wandered by, their faces painted comically.

“Oh look,” Fili said, nodding toward a vendor. “Have you had these before?”

“No,” Sigrid said, eyeing the pastries. “What are they?”

Fili fished a couple of coins out and paid the vendor for two. She curtsied to him, murmuring, “Your Highness honors me.” He nodded his thanks.

“Struvor. Here, try one.” He handed her one of the ones he’d bought.

“They’re very pretty,” Sigrid said looking over the geometric patterning to it carefully. “how are they made?” 

“They’re fried. Bakers either make special irons for the shapes or have them commissioned. Try it,” he urged again.

Sigrid bit into the crispy, fried dough. Her eyebrows shot up and she smiled before covering her mouth with one hand while she chewed. When she finally swallowed, she grinned at Fili. “That’s delicious,” she said.

“As I said.” Fili grinned at her and then popped the rest of his into his mouth before wiping his fingers on his trousers. Sigrid wiped hers on a handkerchief she kept tucked into a pocket of her dress.

“I’ll have to bring some home to my family,” she said with a grin. “Tilda and Da will love these.”

“Not Bain?”

“He doesn’t care for sweets,” she said. “Pity for him but lucky for me. I always manage to get more of his share.”

Fili chuckled. “Perhaps I’ll bring some back to Kili and Mother,” he said. “They love these just as much as I do.”

“How is Princess Dis and Prince Kili?” Sigrid asked. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

They continued on through the festival, both remembering where the vendor with the struvor pastries was so they could return later to buy more for their families. They sampled more of the food, examined the wares, and watched the entertainers as they spoke of their families and the goings on of their respective cities as they walked. A few games and competitions were scheduled throughout the day and they watched a few as they went. Magnus woke up at times and poked his head out of the sling, accepting offerings of food from the two as they strolled. Whispers followed them, but the two didn’t notice them.

A swordsmanship competition caught Fili’s eye in the later afternoon. He signed up and was surprised when Sigrid did as well. 

“You’ll hold Magnus for me while I compete, won’t you?” she asked him without looking up from signing her name. Smytheson grinned at her when she set the pen back in the ink bottle.

“Of course,” Fili said.

“Sigrid, you’re going to compete?”

She turned and saw Tilda and Bain walking towards them, her little sister beaming up at her.

“Yes,” Sigrid said. “Are you going to watch?”

“Bain wants to,” Tilda said. “I don’t see the point.” She made a face.

“It’s good to learn new techniques by watching others,” Bain said, sounding as if he’d said this a few times already. His eye caught Fili and he bowed, greeting the prince and nudging Tilda to do the same.

“None of that now,” Fili said, stepping forward to clasp Bain’s hand. “I’m just here as any other dwarf today, enjoying the festival.”

Bain nodded, returning the grip with a small smile.

“Prince Fili, why did you give Sigrid a puppy?”

“She mentioned she wanted one a few days ago. I know a dwarf that breeds dogs for the King’s Guard. A litter was born a little bit ago and he said I could have the runt.”

“This is the runt?” Bain asked, looking at Magnus. The dog woofed quietly at him and then went back to licking Sigrid’s chin.

“Yes,” Fili said.

“I’m afraid of how large the others are,” Tilda said, wide-eyed.

Fili laughed and the group moved aside for others to sign up for the competition. They spent the next few hours wandering the market together until the designated time for the sword fights rolled around. Fili’s first match came before Sigrid’s and she joined her siblings in the stands as they watched Fili enter the ring.

A roar of approval sounded from every dwarf watching as well as from Sigrid and her siblings. The young prince swaggered into the arena, throwing his hands in the air and motioning for the cheers to get louder, a wide grin on his face. His opponent was a member of Dale’s guard and well-liked in the city.

The crowds settled long enough for the judges to begin the fight. The guardsman advanced quickly, coming at Fili with the intent of using his superior height to his advantage.

“Well that was dumb,” Sigrid thought as Fili ducked under the man’s guard and came up with his own blunted weapon to slash across the man’s ribs, scoring the first hit of five. The match didn’t get any better with Fili dancing around the taller, burlier man. He won the match, evading any strike the other man attempted.

When Sigrid’s first match arrived, she handed Magnus over to Fili. Sound deafened her momentarily when the people of Dale saw their Lady enter the ring. She waved one hand to the cheering and jeering crowds before turning to face off against her opponent.  
“I’m going to enjoy this,” the man said. “Not much more satisfying than teaching a girl her proper place.”

Sigrid let one eyebrow rise but didn’t reply. She knew her silence bothered her chattier opponents. She saluted him and the judge started the match. Sigrid darted in without hesitation. She lunged left in a feint before spinning right in a risky move, bringing the blunted weapon around to strike against the Chatterbox’s ribs. She danced out of reach again before he could retaliate.

“Beginners luck,” Blabbermouth grumbled. “You’ll not make a strike like-”

Sigrid lunged straight at him, her arms extending in opposite directions. Her sword tip struck shoulder and she recoiled back into a defensive stance.

Windbag growled. “Enough!” he snarled and charged her with a roar, his sword raised high. Sigrid dove to the side at the last moment of the man’s chopping swing. On her knees, she swung up and to the side with both hands on the hilt, hitting him across his rear with the flat of her blade. Sher lurched to her feet and away again.

Laughter erupted from the stands, drawing her attention briefly from Loudmouth. Immediately, her eyes found Tilda, Bain, and Fili where she’d left them in the stands. Her eyes met those of the grinning prince and she felt an answering smile tug at her lips before his expression shifted suddenly to one of alarm.

Sigrid sidestepped just in time to keep from being whacked on the collarbone, getting her sword between her and Talkative. She caught his blade on hers high enough to slow the blow but the sheer momentum knocked her block down and the sword smacked painfully into her shoulder. She kept moving back, getting out of range.

She circled, rotating her arm to shake off the pain and ignored the sneer on Chatty’s face.

The traded blows for a while until Sigrid saw an opening. Quickly, she snaked her blade along his, tangled their hilts together, and yanked with all her might. Bigmouth’s sword sailed across the ring, clattering onto the dirt floor as Sigrid swung her sword around, leveling it at his neck.

“Yield,” she ordered with her sword tip just beneath his chin. He scowled but lifted his hands anyway.

The judge declared her the winner of the match.

“Yay Sigrid! You won!” Tilda cheered when the oldest sibling joined the others. She took Magnus back from Fili.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said, chest still heaving slightly with the exertion of the match.

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “That was quite the rookie mistake. What happened?” He indicated her shoulder where she’d been struck for Chatty McChit-chat’s only point.

“I was distracted,” she murmured, not meeting his eyes. He grinned and excused himself to prepare for his next fight.

The matches continued. Fili plowed through his opponents, Man and Dwarf alike. Sigrid fought through her next three, winning them all, some with more difficulty than others. She felt she’d been fairly lucky with her opponents. All had either been more inexperienced than she was or overconfident in their ability to beat her.

“How goes the sword competition?” Bard asked, coming up behind his children as they watched Fili put a member of Erebor’s King’s Guard to shame, laughing all the while (“Master Dwalin is going to have a field day with getting you fit for battle! My mum could beat you with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back!”).

“I think His Highness will win the entire thing, the way he’s competing,” Sigrid said. She worried about his leg but also wondered if she should exploit it should they fight in the next round -a very likely scenario considering this was his last match before it and he only had to score one more hit to advance where his opponent hadn’t so much as touched him.

“If he can beat you in the quarterfinals,” Tilda said, holding the utmost faith in her sister’s abilities. 

Sigrid ruffled Tilda’s hair, smiling at her optimism and cheered as Fili scored his final point, taking the match. He and the other dwarf left the ring so the first match of the quarterfinals could start. She knew her skill level and had gotten a good look at Prince Fili’s. She’d been training -admittedly in almost every spare moment but still- for almost two years. Whereas the dwarf prince had probably trained for most of his much longer life.

“Can you hold Magnus Da?” Sigrid asked. “I better go get ready.” She took off the sling after pulling the puppy out. She handed both over to her father before heading back over to prepare for her match against Fili.

After he finished his match, the dwarf prince joined her as she pulled on a padded jerkin to help protect her from the worst blows.

“I’ll not go easy on you, Highness,” she said, pulling her head free of the garment and reaching for the gloves set aside for her.

“Funny, I was going to say the same to you. I’ll not hold back if you get distracted.”

“I’ll try not to hurt that pretty face of yours but I make no guarantees.” She headed toward the ring as the other match wound down.

Fili gaped after her for a moment before jogging to catch up. “You think I’m pretty?” he asked, grinning.

Sigrid just smiled at him and entered the ring, taking up position on her side. When Fili faced her and saluted, she returned the salute and winked.

“Mind games is it?” he thought. “Let the games begin.”

The judge signaled the start of the match.

Fili and Sigrid started circling each other, darting in for attacks, testing each other. Sigrid finally lunged, and Fili knocked her blade aside and followed her when she recoiled, swiping at her across her waist. She met his attack, bringing her arm in close. Fili forced her sword down, still advancing. He leaned into her, stepping into the guard, making eye contact, and smiling charmingly. Sigrid’s eyes widened and her steps faltered. Fili whipped his blade up and struck her across the ribs before she could free her sword and get out of range.

Fili crowed with laughter. “What was that you said about my pretty face?” 

Sigrid didn’t answer, just advanced again, using her height to her advantage. Fili twisted aside and they traded blows, swords clashing loudly among the din made by the crowds. The dwarves cheered loudly as Fili hit Sigrid two more times. Sigrid fought back, pushing Fili to keep circling.

His hip, already hurting from the morning walking and the afternoon fighting, started to ache with a fierce, stabbing pain. He started limping harder. Sigrid pushed and pushed until he stumbled. She caught him across his shoulder when he faltered, throwing his arm out to catch his balance. The People of Dale roared their approval as the judge lifted the green flag, signaling her point.

Fili didn’t step back but darted in when Sigrid stepped back. He caught her across her hip and stepped back.

They both darted in at the same time, swords coming around to clash together, retreat, and come in again. Fili came in high, Sigrid came in low. She struck his ribs but stopped moving then. Fili pressed his blunted blade into her throat.  
“Yield,” Fili ordered, a grin on his face.

Sigrid huffed a sigh and dropped her sword, raising her hands in surrender.

Dwarves cheered in the stands as Fili moved his sword to his left hand. “Well fought, My Lady.”

She took his hand in a firm grip. “Should have known better than to taunt Erebor’s crown prince before the match started.” She grinned and they left the ring.

Once they were clear of the ring and the next combatants had entered, Fili turned to her but suddenly fell forward as a dark blur landed on top of him, shouting, “Fili!”

“Prince Kili!” Tilda raced over to them, grinning at the younger dwarf sitting on the elder’s back.

“Lady Tilda! Did you see my brother almost lose to your amazing sister?”

“I did not almost lose,” Fili groused, twisting out from under Kili and pinning him easily.

“Keep telling yourself that Brother,” Kili said and wriggled his way free. He gave Tilda a hug when she reached for him. “How are you, littlest Bardling?”

Tilda giggled at the name. “I’m fine. How are you? Is Tauriel with you? There she is. Hi Tauriel! Did you know Prince Fili gave Sig a puppy?”

“A puppy?” Kili asked, glancing at his brother. “Where?”

“Da has him. Come on, I’ll show you.” She grabbed Kili’s hand and led him off. Fili watched as Tauriel followed, smiling at the antics of the child and her dwarf.

“Will you be staying to watch the rest of the matches now you’re out of them?” Fili asked as they followed the trio at a more sedate pace. Fili would soon enough have to return to the ring for the semi-finals but he felt he should keep an eye on Kili for a moment longer if he could.

Sigrid took the good-natured slap on the back from a nearby dwarf with a smile before answering. “Of course I will. I need to make sure that the one who beat me is indeed the best sword fighter here so I know what to work toward.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” Fili said. They reached the others and Fili watched as Tilda took the sleeping puppy from Bard and showed it to Kili.

“Fee, you gave her a Mountain Hound?” he asked with a laugh.

“It’s the runt of the litter,” Fili said as if that made a difference.

Kili laughed. “I want a ride on it when it’s full grown!”

“What?” Bard looked over at Kili.

“Joking, only joking,” he said but sent a wink Tilda’s way. The little girl giggled and continued to show off the puppy.

“I better head back,” Fili said, nodding toward the ring but keeping an eye on Bard who was glaring at him and glancing at the dog in turn.

“Good luck, Your Highness,” Sigrid said. 

Fili did end up winning the competition, trouncing his remaining two opponents thoroughly. He accepted the gold offered him with a grin, waiving to the cheering crowds.

“And now Your Highness, who will you show your favor to this day?”

Fili grinned widely. “Why, to my brother Kili of course!”

A murmur broke out through the audience. People whispered and glanced at each other, eyes turning from the crown prince to his younger brother.

Fili continued after a moment. “For him to give to his One as I have not yet found mine and will show none other my favor.” He motioned for Kili and Tauriel to approach as applause and cheering erupted again. Fili handed over the rest of the prize- a voucher for dinner at the finest inn as well as one for a young jeweler from Erebor. “Enjoy yourselves on me,” he said, handing them to Kili.

“Many thanks, Brother,” Kili said, his cheerful grin widening as he leaned up to kiss Tauriel. She leaned down to receive it and he shifted his stance, bending her back into an exaggerated, prolonged player’s kiss. Hoots and hollers sounded from the dwarrows in the audience as well as good-natured jeering.

Fili returned to where Sigrid was with her family. She’d taken the sling back from her father and reloaded Magnus into it, petting his head absently as he licked at her face. Fili turned to Bard. “With your permission, My Lord Bard the Dragonslayer,” he said and grinned at the glower he received for using the man’s official title, “I’d be honored if you’d allow me to continue to escort Lady Sigrid for the remainder of the festival, if I may?”

Bard glanced at Sigrid who nodded. 

“Very well, Prince Fili of Erebor, you may.” He turned to his daughter. “Don’t be out too late.”

“I won’t, Da,” she said. “I’ll come by the house after dinner to at least bring Magnus home and check in before I join in the dancing.”

“That’s my girl,” Bard smiled at her.

She accepted Fili’s arm when he offered it and they wove back into the crowds to enjoy the rest of the festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that are curious, Magnus is a Caucasian Shepherd (also called Caucasian Mountain hound or Caucasian Ovcharka or Baskhan (Karachay) pariy). Large males can weigh around 200 pounds, as Magnus will when he's full grown. Google them. They're giant fluff balls of protectiveness.
> 
> As always, please comment with questions, concerns, or, well comments. I always love hearing from my readers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's winter! Sigrid gets a new title.
> 
> Fili gives advice, asks a favor, and is generally a big softy.
> 
> Kili sticks his nose in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those that comment, kudo, bookmark, subscribe, etc. Please keep it coming! If there is something you'd like to see in this fic or a companion fic (I've got ideas for a Bagginshield that will coincide with this one. Early stages of planning only currently), drop me a comment. I like being challenged to write different things, especially short fics. 
> 
> Violence (in self-defense) against very hungry predators driven to attack humans. Please read accordingly.

Chapter 4

They met weekly after the midsummer festival. Magnus grew quickly and by Durin’s Day, he stood as tall as the bottom of Fili’s ribcage. He knew various commands for everyday behavior but soon learned that he was also to be a guard dog for Sigrid, ready to attack and chase off anyone she indicated, unrelenting until she called him off. They practiced with Fili and Kili in full armor and heavily padded clothing until they were sure the dog would guard Sigrid against anyone when she gave the command.

With the first snows of winter, the parade of suitors dried up almost entirely. Only one or two showing up in a month. Fili and Sigrid also had to call off their weekly meetings to train Magnus as the snows obliterated their paths and made the trek up the mountainside too difficult.

The weather was harsh in Dale and Erebor as well as the surrounding lands. Wolves started circling close to the cities. Extra guards were posted at the gates and people scrambled to secure their homes against all beasts. 

One particularly wintery day, Sigrid and Magnus left her home to aid a local woman who had just had a child. Sigrid puttered around the much smaller house, cleaning and cooking while the young mother cared for her newborn until her husband could return from his duties on guard on the city wall.

When he finally returned, it was already dark out.

“Perhaps you should stay here for the night, My Lady,” the woman said after she laid her baby down for the first part of the night. “It’s getting late.”

“It would probably be for the best,” the man said. “The wolves are close to the city walls tonight. The winter is harsh for us. It can only be worse for them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to enter the city tonight.”

Sigrid smiled. “I appreciate the offer, but my home isn’t far. I have my sword and Magnus with me. We’ll be all right for the short distance.”

“My Lady, are you sure? It’s snowing as well.”

Sigrid glanced toward the window. Indeed, fat snowflakes fell outside, limiting visibility. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted as she reached for her coat.

“Be careful, My Lady,” the woman said. “If the weather is this bad tomorrow, we’ll expect you to stay home or stay here for tomorrow night if you insist on coming again.”

“I understand,” Sigrid said. She snapped her fingers and Magnus trotted to her side. “Good night,” she said, receiving the same wish in return before closing the door behind her and stepping into the cold.

“Well Magnus,” she said. “Let’s head home.”

The large hound wagged his considerably fluffy tail and gave a soft but deep woof in return. Still a puppy in heart if not in size, the hound romped in the snow around her as they walked after she gave him the go-ahead to walk as he pleased as long as he stayed in sight. Sigrid listened, noting that the guardsman had been right. The wolves were near the city.

Magnus stopped in his romping suddenly, just a street away from her home. He planted his paws where he stood and started barking loudly, his hackles rising.

“Magnus?” Sigrid asked, her hand going to the hilt of her sword. The dog shifted, standing between her and the rest of the road back the way she’d come.

He snarled and lunged forward a few feet, still barking. She was about to call him back to her and to stop his barking when a pair of wolves slunk into her limited sight. She swallowed and drew her sword.

“Wolves!” She shouted. “Wolves in the city!”

The larger of the two beasts lunged toward Magnus. 

“Magnus, _Inkhir_!” she ordered. The dog turned and bounded back to her. The wolf followed on his heels and Sigrid darted in, holding her sword with both hands. She slipped on ice and sliced the wolf along its side instead of stabbing it clean in the chest as she’d intended. It yelped and backed away, blood dripping from the cut but its eyes still fixed on her as she scrambled back upright. Magnus barked a challenge at them.

The second wolf attacked and the first followed right behind it. Grimly, Sigrid reset her feet in the treacherous snow. This time, when she brought her sword up, she hit true, burying it into the wolf’s neck when it jumped at her. Its weight pushed her back, falling on top of her and sending her sprawling under its bulk.

“Magnus! _Igrid_!” she cried, trying to push the dead wolf off her even as the wolf she’d first injured bore down on her.

Her dog, though not full grown lunged to the attack, bashing into the side of the wolf and clamping his jaws on its neck and hanging on. He dug his paws into the snow and started jerking backward, trying to pull the wolf off balance. The wolf twisted and squirmed, trying to sink its teeth into Magnus.

Sigrid pushed the body off her and clambered to her feet. “ _Inkhir_!” she shouted to her dog. He released the wolf and backed away. The wolf tried to follow but Sigrid swung her sword again, this time hitting true and cutting deep into the wolf’s neck, partially severing its head.

“Sigrid! Sigrid! Are you alright?”

She looked up from where she stood, chest heaving and adrenaline quickly leaving her system.

“Da,” she said as her father reached her side. “I’m fine.” She turned her eyes back to the wolf she’d just killed. “They’re so skinny,” she said absently. “No wonder they came into the city for food.”

“Come,” Bard said, wrapping his arm around her. “Let’s get you inside.”

She nodded and barely took a moment to call for Magnus. The dog followed her and her father the rest of the way to the house. Dimly, she heard her father ordering others to take care of the corpses and to search the rest of the streets for wolves or anyone outdoors.

The next day, Bard ordered a curfew for the safety of his citizens, sighting the wolves that had attacked Sigrid the night before. That afternoon, a contingent of dwarves led by Prince Fili arrived in the city. The prince himself came to visit Bard in his home to discuss the quartering of dwarrow soldiers to help in the defenses, considering Dale’s walls still weren’t completely repaired and to check on Sigrid.

“I’m all right,” she said for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I didn’t even get scratched.”

“Well done,” Fili said with a grin. “You truly are a warrior for all you haven’t trained long. Do you know your people have already started calling you Wolf’s Bane?”

Sigrid looked to the side, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t want such a title. I feel like I should train more after last night,” she admitted.

“Then do so,” Fili said. “There is nothing wrong with more training.”

Sigrid nodded and vowed to stay at the guard post for extra training every day. It would take some rearranging of her schedule but she felt the need and so she would do it.

“Magnus did a great job,” she said, turning the attention away from herself. She told him how the dog had warned her and then protected her and followed all the commands she’d given him. Fili grinned as she spoke and then scratched the dog’s ears, complimenting him on his good work. 

“I miss seeing you,” Fili admitted once they’d exhausted the topic of her fight with the wolves the night before. “Would you mind if I wrote to you until the snows melt enough for easier travel between here and Erebor?”

‘I’d like that,” Sigrid admitted. “Not many people my age want to talk like we did when training Magnus.”

Fili laughed. “I imagine not. Men don’t seem to be as interested in running a kingdom as you seem to be.”

Sigrid blushed. “My father is going to be crowned king,” she reminded him. “I need to know how to support him but that’s not all I meant. I miss the ease of talking to you. Everyone here is too conscious of my title.”

Fili sighed. “I understand,” he said. “I’ll write you a letter as soon as I get back to the mountain. I’ll instruct the raven to stay until you write me back. Just remember to feed them or they get irritated.”

She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

~*~*~

Unfortunately, the title Wolf’s Bane stuck. A few days after Fili left, leaving dwarrow guards to supplement Dale’s own guards against the wolves and attacks from other dark creatures, Bard called her down to the sitting room. Someone had skinned and cleaned the wolves she’d killed and brought the hides to her as trophies. The pelts were warm and would be a nice addition to the blankets on her bed until she decided what to do with them.

~*~*~

To Sigrid, Lady of Dale, Daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer

Sigrid,

As promised, I’m writing to you my first moment of time away from others since I returned to the mountain. I’m sure you’ve noticed the falling snow and the severity of the blizzard outside. Due to the weather, uncle has closed Erebor for travel for the foreseeable future. No one is allowed outside the mountain unless on the most urgent business that must be approved by Uncle. He will be sending a letter o Bard shortly to inform him of the lack of trade coming from the mountain and will be urging him to do the same for the citizens of Dale. The squad I left behind with your guards will be staying until the roads are more easily traversed as well. They will be notified but if you were to go and speak with them, offer my personal thanks to them, I’d be grateful. Hopefully, they can help with your wolf problem.

There is a benefit to all the snow at least that I think you will agree with. With the roads unpassable, foreign dignitaries and thus prospective spouses will not be able to visit. I, for one, am glad for the reprieve of watching Dwalin beat dwarrowdams in combat. He beat the last one in under a minute and left her crying like a wounded orc child. It was rather pitying, to say the least. Perhaps it was a kindness though. In my experience, the ones that fight so poorly also offer up the poorest gifts of their craft. If this were true for this particular dam, I would have had to refuse her upon sight of the gift. It’s always more distressing when I have to turn them down personally instead of Dwalin or whatever guard is with Uncle for the day. I don’t understand why they always make crowns as their gifts as well. I already have access to more of those than I could ever need. I would much rather receive something useful, like a new sword or something.

But I digress.

I just received word from a trusted source upon my return. He looked into the suitor that you had Magnus chase off most recently (at least that I’m aware of. Have you had others since the one?). Apparently, you made the right choice. You’re not the first lady of noble standing he’s attacked. There have apparently been two others that reported his actions. Luckily, both were saved by passersby. We will be sending word to his people in order to inform them of his dishonorable actions and warn them that if they do not take action, we will and they will lose Erebor’s support and trade.

Nori (do you remember him? He was part of the Company) was quite impressed with how you handled him and the wolves when he heard of it. He seems to have a soft spot where strong-willed women are concerned. I’d take advantage if I were you. He asked me to tell you that if you ever have another problem with a suitor again, he’ll take care of them for you. I don’t know if he means they’ll meet their end in a dark alley one day or if he’ll destroy their reputations. I’m sure you could ask him to do either and he would. I think he’s bored in the mountain. He has been running Dwalin ragged with his shenanigans. He loves to make a point about only being a partially reformed thief.

I told Kili about your adventure with the wolves. He doesn’t believe me. Please do us a favor when you visit and bring the wolf pelts with you. I want to be able to see the look on his face when you prove him wrong. Tauriel was more inclined to believe the story but then, I’m sure she has more experience with just how fierce Women can be, having had more personal dealings with them than Kili has. Speaking of whom, he’s just entered the room and has asked me to extend his greeti _(Hello Sigrid! It’s me, Kili. Did you really kill two wolves with nothing but your sword and Magnus? I think Fili’s trying to put one over on me. He’s been awfully grumpy lately. Can you do something about that?)_ Please ignore him. Everyone else does when he gets like this. As I have nothing else to address in this letter, I’ll send it off to you now. I hope you are well.

-F _(and K!)_

_PS- I’m entirely serious. Fili’s too gloomy. Cheer him up a bit, would you?_ Ignore him. Please feed the raven. She’s a good sort but does get a bit crotchety when she’s hungry.

~*~*~

To Fili, Son of Dis, Crown Prince Under the Mountain

Fili (and I’m guessing Kili as well?)

Thank you for your letter. I am glad to know you returned to the mountain safely, despite the blizzard. Da did receive a letter from the King Under the Mountain and has agreed that closing trade routes, for the time being, is for the best. However, we will still be sending out hunters. As we have lived our lives in these conditions (out on a lake no less!), we know how to survive. Our hunters will be fine and will hopefully bring in more game. They do not travel alone, always in small parties with hunting dogs for safety against predators such as the wolves or from wandering orcs and goblins. The rest of us will stay in the city and make do with the goods we have stored away for the winter. 

Da has added a curfew for our people, requesting that everyone be inside within the hour after the sun sets to keep everyone safe from the wolves. People have also started making sure their animals are inside closed buildings. Not everyone has places in their own homes but much of Dale is still unsettled. People have started housing their sheep or goats or chickens inside some of the empty buildings. We hear the wolves at night, howling and prowling outside the city. There have been no more reports of them coming in the walls but there have been a few attempts. The guards have caught them each time. Luckily, none of either of our peoples have been killed in the attacks. I think a priority for reconstruction once the weather cooperates will be to rebuild the gates. The carpenters are already working on them as much as they can with our limited resources.

Your raven has been perfectly well-behaved since she arrived. I did feed her and that seemed to make her grateful. I’ve heard the Line of Durin can speak directly to them. Is that really the case? Can you? I wonder if it’s some sort of magic or something that some people have, such as blue eyes or red hair. Da can talk to thrushes. Honestly, so can I. I couldn’t tell anyone when I was younger. The Master of Laketown didn’t like anything he deemed unnatural so Da and I had to keep it hidden, just in case. We didn’t need anything else to set us apart from others. Now though, I speak with them frequently. Tilda, Bain, and I created a little shelter for them in our garden to keep them warm during the winter. Tilda puts fresh seed out for them daily. She chatters away with them for hours when given the chance. Bain has never indicated if he can understand them or not. I think he does but I’ve never seen him talk to them but he sure seems to listen.

I was at the guard house this morning where I took a few moments to do as you asked with the dwarrow there. They are grateful to hear your words and that you would take the time to remember them in your letter. When Captain Smytheson informed them I killed two wolves and often came to train among the guard, a few of your people offered to teach me some of their fighting techniques. I know your people can be secretive so I wanted to make sure such a thing was all right before I accepted their offer. I don’t want to create any problems.

Please give Master Nori my gratitude. The few times I’ve met him he has seemed kind and clever. His offer is one I will think on. I don’t feel well, knowing some of those that have behaved poorly with me are free to do so with someone else that doesn’t have the protection that I do. Again, I thank you for Magnus and helping me train him. He is getting stronger and larger every day and is unfailingly loyal. I hope to always remain worthy of his loyalty.

It appears that courting for your people and for mine is very different. I’m afraid I don’t quite understand what some of the things you mentioned entail. Someone must fight Master Dwalin before they can court someone? And they must make a gift? Our rituals do not require such, just the girl’s parents’ approval. Gifts may be exchanged while they court but are not required. If the couple desires to be married, the girl’s dowry is discussed but that is the closest thing to a gift, other than the engagement ring. Is it very different for your people? Are you allowed to tell me or is that a dwarf secret?

I hope the snows relent enough for the midwinter festival. It feels like it has been many years since the last time we had the opportunity to celebrate it properly. Da is planning on inviting your family and the entire Company that retook the mountain as well as other local dignitaries. Will you come if the snow isn’t too bad? Magnus misses you.

Tilda wants to go outside and build snow creatures which means Bain will instigate a snowball fight. I’ll end my letter here so that I have something to write about next time. I hope you are safe and warm in your mountain.

-S

~*~*~

To Sigrid, Lady of Dale, Daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer

Sigrid _(Hi! I’m here too!)_ ,

I’m glad the raven was well-behaved. Yes, I can talk to them. You could too actually. Our feathery messengers speak Westron. For some reason though, they are selective about who they will talk to _(Crotchety creatures that they are)_. They’ll talk to Uncle Thorin, Kili, and myself. They’ve spoken to various members of the Company _(Except Bifur but he doesn’t speak Westron either)_ but no one else that I’m aware. They can be rather irritable so we don’t spend a lot of time just talking to them. We give them shiny things and food to entice them to help us _(Manipulative little scavengers)_.

Thank you for talking with the guards. There is no secret to our weapons training. You are more than welcome to take them up on their offer. It may be interesting to see how our style differs from yours as well as how they are similar. I look forward to seeing your progress. Perhaps a rematch from the summer festival is in order? _(Fee says you’re good with a sword and I quite agree. I saw you almost best him over the summer. Ever try archery? Any other weapon?)_

As for courting, yes, it does seem like our rituals are different _(So glad I don’t have to deal with this. I found my One so I only have to cover the basics which is fun. Who wouldn’t want to give gifts to their intended?)_. Usually, a dwarf waits for a dwarrowdam to approach him. Only about one-third of all dwarrow are women so they initiate courtship so as to not waste her time by unwanted advances _(Seems a bit backward to me. I’d think they’d like attention from multiple dwarrow so they know all the options they have)_. Usually, she presents her intended with a gift to show her mastery of a craft. If the dwarf accepts, they begin the actual courtship which consists of gift exchanges, negotiations, and time spent together _(Rather tedious if you ask me)_. For the more old-fashioned families _(Read stuffy)_ or the royal family _(Again read stuffy)_ , the dwarrowdam must challenge for courtship before giving her gift. She will fight a member of the family or, in the royal family’s case, a representative _(Usually Dwalin in our case. He almost always stands as Uncle’s guard)_. This displays her determination and battle skills. More and more families are moving back to this tradition as times become more perilous and battle skills are becoming more and more important _(Rather silly if you ask me. We all are trained to fight since we’re dwarflings)_.

It’s interesting to me that so little is needed for a courtship for you. Do you not have a say in it?

Is your midwinter festival like Yule? Or is it like your midsummer festival? Granted, part of Yule is like that with dancing and feasting _(So much food. I wonder if Bilbo will help with the baking for our family)_ , but it’s also for families and other traditions. It lasts for twelve days. I will encourage Uncle to accept your invitation when it arrives if travel to Dale is possible _(Even if the snow isn’t great we may still try to come)_. Give Magnus an extra scratch from me. I miss him too _(Me too! I miss the ball of fluff)_.

You were correct in assuming that Kili read your letter over my shoulder, as you can see _(Hope you don’t mind but I saw my name on it)_. He saw your words about Tilda wanting to build snow sculptures and it sparked his own desire _(It was a great idea. I love snow)_. He gathered as many dwarrow as he could, including me before I could finish reading your letter, the twit _(Oi!)_ , and dragged us all outside the front gates. We built snow dwarrow and other things and then had a rather large snowball fight _(So epic! You should have been there. We had at least twenty people involved)_. Bifur and Bofur put everyone else’s sculptures to shame when they built a giant Smaug _(It really was amazing)_. So many were impressed by it and others claimed they could do better that we’re now going to hold a competition with ten gold coins for the winner. Kili thinks there should be multiple categories as not everyone is a trained artisan _(Well it’s true)_. He believes those with such training -carvers, masons, etc.- will have an unfair advantage over those that don’t. I reminded him that he and I both have artisan training and to stop complaining _(I wasn’t complaining, just making a point)_. He threw a snowball at me for that comment _(Got him right on the side of the head too. Snow in his ear and down his collar. Ha!)_. I shoved him into a drift. You should have seen him come spluttering out of it, snow clinging to his hair and what whiskers he has. Made him look as old as Balin but much more rosy-cheeked _(It was horrible. Got snow down my trousers and everything. Some big brother he is, right?)_. Even Bilbo came out to join in the fun. He’s not a big fan of winter _(He doesn’t wear shoes. No wonder he hates it. I bet his feet are always freezing in the mountain)_ , but he is pretty good at throwing snowballs. I think he won that fight _(I’m pretty sure he could take on the entire mountain and win)_. Then again, I remember him being a good shot with the flaming pinecones we hit the wargs and orcs with too before the Eagles came.

We hope you’re still warm in Dale. Stay safe from the wolves.

-F _(and K)_

_(PS- Your letter really cheered up Fili! Good job!)_ Ignore him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul (keep in mind Fili taught her a bit of a bastardized version to work around whole secret language thing. Also, if I got it horribly wrong and you can tell me, please do. I'd really like to get it all right. Current translations are from The Dwarrow Scholar as I can understand it):
> 
> Igrib: attack
> 
> Inkhir: Come away 
> 
> I've never actually had to do anything to make italics in a fic before. That was an interesting experience.
> 
> Sorry. Kili has a tendency to get out of hand when I write. Hope you all enjoyed!
> 
> Happy reading everyone!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midwinter festival.
> 
> Fili has a thought.
> 
> Just a touch of fluff.

Chapter 5

The snow stopped falling for brief intervals, allowing paths to be shoveled in Dale. People rushed from place to place, trying to keep warm in the biting wind. Those with stalls in the markets kept small braziers in their shops to keep warm and even allowed the occasional regular customer the opportunity to come in and warm themselves. Riders set out almost daily to clear a path from Dale to Erebor, allowing trade to resume between the two cities on the nicer days. The roads away from the mountain did not clear, only piled deeper with snow.

The snowstorms let up the day before the midwinter festival and riders immediately went to stomp paths to the mountain, allowing the dwarrow to reach Dale for the festivities. Early the morning of the festival, a small caravan left Erebor led by Princess Dis, her two sons, and her youngest son’s intended who were acting in the name of King Thorin and his consort. While the rest of their people dispersed to the markets to set up stalls and to take part in the fun, the three royals and the elf headed for the Lord of Dale’s home.

After someone took their ponies to the stables, they were let into the house and to the formal dining room where Bard and his children greeted them and offered them breakfast. Disinclined to turn down a meal, the four sat to eat. Once the meal was over, Dis, carrying a few official documents concerning trade come spring, followed Bard to his office to go over them. The two younger human children had left earlier to get ready for the day. Tauriel took a moment to step outside and enjoy a bit of rare sunshine before clouds once more obscured the sun.

Sigrid turned to the two princes with a smile once their parents had left the room.

“So, no fighting competitions?”

“None,” Sigrid said, patting Fili consolingly on the shoulder. “The only place large enough to hold fights isn’t large enough to have an audience. It’s also set up for the feast and dancing for tonight.”

“So what will be done instead?” Kili asked. “What fun will there be?”

“The same thing your people do for Yule from what little I gathered from the few dwarrow that would talk about it. There’ll be a feast and dancing like I said. Musicians and juggling. Games and the marketplace will be full of the best products of the year, especially traditional items for the holiday.” She smiled and picked up the last remaining dishes on the table, carrying them to the sink for the kitchen maid to clean. She’d do it herself but had already lost that particular fight a few weeks before. Now that they had a maid in to clean the public areas of the moderately sized house, a cook, a kitchen maid, and a laundress, Sigrid had little to do in the way of household chores. She cleaned her own room and baked sweets on occasion, but otherwise, she’d had to find other ways to occupy her time. She’d retaken up embroidery, a skill her mother had started teaching her before she died of the sweating sickness and had been expanding on a bit the year before Smaug had attacked. With that, her weapons training, working with Magnus, and helping her father, she kept fairly busy. The free time she still experienced was a novelty.

“Sig, you better go get ready,” Tilda said, bounding down the stairs and into the room.

“Not until your hair is properly done,” Sigrid said, taking in the mess of waves climbing out of the sloppy crown braid. She cast a quick but critical eye across her sister’s, long, deep maroon, wool dress. It was clean and pressed, the blue and green holly leaves and snowflakes embroidered along the ends of her sleeves at her collar, on her sash, and along her hem twinkled with the pretty silvery thread Sigrid had found in the marketplace. Her leather boots looked clean as well if a bit worn. “Where’s the ribbon that matches?” Sigrid asked. Tilda’s mouth formed a small o before she left the room again. The girl soon returned with a maroon ribbon with snowflakes embroidered on it. She handed it and a hairbrush to Sigrid before sitting in the chair next to Kili. As soon as she was settled, she started chatting with the younger dwarf.

Sigrid went to work, undoing what was left of Tilda’s braid before brushing her hair until it shined. She braided it into a circle at the back of her sister’s head, weaving the long ribbon into her tresses before tying it off in a bow at the base of her skull, letting the rest of her hair hang free in a tail.

“How pretty,” Tauriel commented, reentering the house.

Tilda beamed widely at the elf before standing. She stepped away from the table and spun neatly on one foot. “How do I look?” she asked the two men still at the table.

“Very pretty,” Fili and Kili chorused.

“Lovely,” Tauriel added.

“You’ll be the most beautiful girl in the market,” Sigrid said.

Tilda’s smile widened. “Thank you again for the dress,” She said, giving Sigrid a tight hug around the waist. “You better go get ready now.”

Sigrid excused herself and left, heading to her bedroom.

“Your sister gave you the dress?” Kili asked.

“Mmhmmm,” Tilda said, looking closely at the snowflakes on the sleeve. “She did the embroidery herself, as well as the stuff on Bain’s and Da’s tunics. She did her dress for the dance tonight too.”

“Really?” Kili asked, intrigued.

Tilda looked up at him but was cut off when Bard and Dis entered the room. “Don’t go spoiling it for your sister,” Bard admonished. “She worked hard on that dress. Let her show it off tonight without anyone knowing too much about it.”

“Yes Da,” Tilda said. “She did a good job on it though,” she added to Kili in a stage whisper.

Bard smiled, the expression lending ten years of youthfulness to his face.

“Are you boys ready?” Dis asked, fixing her sons with a stare.

“Yes Amad,” they chorused. Kili looked up at Tauriel, thrilled to be sharing such an outing with her. Yes, their presence here was partially for political reasons but also for fun and enjoyment. He was especially excited for the dance that evening. Sigrid told him earlier that they had asked some dwarrow to provide music for part of the evening so they could dance to music he had grown up too. He really wanted to teach them to his One.

“Sorry to keep everyone waiting. Tilda? Can you help me with this please?”

Fili looked up from where he’d been talking to his mother briefly and grinned. “Gee Sigrid, think you’ll be warm enough?”

“Oh hush,” she said as Tilda pinned the simple twist braid into a knot at the nape of her neck. “I don’t have to wear a coat with this dress.”

Dis smacked the back of Fili’s head. He yelped in indignation and surprise. “You look lovely,” the dwarrowdam said, taking in the heavy wool dress that fit snuggly to the young woman’s arms and torso, secured from her shoulder to the hem with pretty gold buttons. Heavy brown petticoats extended past the green overdress by about six inches, just barely brushing the floor. The green wool was trimmed in what looked like rabbit fur at her collar, sleeves, and hem. She carried a muff of the same material and Tilda was now busy pinning a fur hat to her sister’s head at a slight angle. “Doesn’t she?” Dis glared pointedly at her older son.

Sufficiently chastised but still wanting to tease his best friend, Fili stepped up to Sigrid once Tilda had finished pinning the hat. He took her hand, bowing over it. “Forgive me my jest, Lady Sigrid. Your beauty is unparalleled across the land.” He kissed her knuckles and straightened with a wink.

“Thank you, kind prince. You honor me with your words,” Sigrid said fighting to keep a straight face as well as to keep a blush off her cheeks and tipping her nose into the air as Tilda giggled and Kili mock swooned into Tauriel’s arms.

“We better be leaving,” Bard said before any other shenanigans could happen.

“Shall we My Lady?” Fili asked, offering his arm to Sigrid with another exaggerated bow.

“Indeed we shall, Your Highness. I’d be honored.”

They spent the morning in the markets. Besides the natural beauty left by the recent snowfalls, Dale’s citizens had added holly wreaths and red ribbons. Bunches of mistletoe hung over a few doorways and a few windows sported painted snowflakes and stars of various quality, helping identify the age of the artist as a small child or adult. Snowmen stood in some gardens as well as small walls, some with snowballs resting on top or half-buried nearby, depicting the preparations for or the aftermath of battles. Icicles hung from eaves, dripping occasionally in the bright sun shining between storms.

Their group split. Bain taking Tilda to the activities set aside for children. Bard and Dis, Kili and Tauriel, and Fili and Sigrid each too different directions once they reached the market. They talked, laughed, and sampled treats offered by vendors. They shopped for gifts for their families and friends.

“Do you think Bilbo would like these?” Fili asked that afternoon, examining a pair of boots.

“Doubtful,” Sigrid said, a little preoccupied as she handed over a few coins in exchange for some cinnamon roasted almonds for Kili. “He told me once that no self-respecting Baggins wore boots or shoes or anything of the like.”

Fili made a face. “I can’t imagine going around barefoot in the snow.”

“Me neither.”

“So, what should I get him?” Fili asked.

Sigrid thought for a moment as she tucked the almonds into the bag she carried, ignoring Magnus as he nosed at them, curious about the new smell. “You said Master Dwalin was teaching him to use his sword more, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

Sigrid caught his arm and pulled him over to a leather worker’s stall. She handed Fili a pair of vambraces that would fit the hobbit. They were unadorned but of good make, solid and with good ties. “Get them customized,” she said. She picked up a pair of gloves that would also fit Bilbo snuggly and wouldn’t interfere with the vambraces. “I thought I’d get him these to match.”

“You’re buying a present for Bilbo?” Fili asked a bit shocked.

“Mmhmmm,” Sigrid nodded. 

“Why?”

She looked over at him from where she’d been examining a new archer’s arm guard for Tilda. Bard planned to give his youngest daughter her first bow for the holiday and had suggested Sigrid and Bain outfit her for their gifts. “He’s my friend,” she said. “I see him in the market sometimes and he gives great advice on gardening.”

“He never mentioned seeing you,” Fili remarked quietly and ignored the curious look she cast at him. He turned to the now free vendor to haggle over the price.

That evening, the group gathered back in Bard’s home so that they could change before the feast.

Sigrid pulled her hair free from the pins and ties holding it into the braid after she’d been cinched into a corset and the dress she’d wear the rest of the evening. A maid stepped behind her and started arranging the curls and waves with different jeweled pins that gleamed in the lamplight and matched her mother’s only pair of nice earrings, one of the few things Sigrid had been able to grab the night Smaug destroyed Laketown. Finally ready, she went back downstairs.

She found Fili in the sitting room, working through some commands with Magnus. “You look nice,” she told him after watching for a few moments. Fili’s braids had been redone with different clasps that shone brightly in the light, slivers of diamonds and topaz reflecting light and enhancing the gold. The Durin blue coat was perhaps a few shades too dark but the sheer richness of the color helped enhance his eyes. Beneath the dark grey fur trimming the coat, she caught a glimpse of a fine black tunic with blue geometric designs stitched in. her fingers practically itched to get a hold of the embroidery to learn the pattern. His dark grey trousers were simple and tucked into the tops of the same steel tipped boots he’d worn earlier that day. He wore rings on a few fingers and cuffs on both his ears. She wondered just how many weapons he had hidden on his person.

“As do you,” Fili said. “Tilda said you did the embroidering?”

Sigrid smoothed her hands across her stomach, fingers running along the ties and ruffles of the stomacher as she looked down past the lace covering the lower portion of her arms to the skirt of her outermost petticoat where vines, flowers, and birds in reds and creams with a little black twined up the blue-purple skirt. “I did,” she said. “Does it look bad?”

“It’s impressive,” Fili said. “Do you mind?” he asked, indicating her petticoat. Sigrid shook her head and he bent to look closer at it. “These cardinals are really good. I don’t know what kinds of flowers these are but I’d imagine they look close to the real thing. They look real to me at least.”

Sigrid smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “At least now I can believe my family when they say it’s good.”

“It’s missing something though,” Fili said.

“Really? What?” She looked down at herself, trying to decide what she’d missed on the dress. Had she forgotten a bit of the silver ribbons she’d used to line the dress and the lace along her sleeves? Had she skipped a button on the stomacher?

“My Yule gift for you,” Fili said and handed her a long thin box.

“Well if we’re exchanging gifts now,” Sigrid huffed and left the room. 

Fili blinked after her, still holding the box. 

What had just happened? 

She came back while he puzzled over her actions. She held out a box with a blue ribbon tied to it. “My gift for you,” she said.

He set the small box he’d had for Sigrid aside and took the bigger box she offered. He gave it a small shake near his ear, watching her reaction as he listened to the rattling. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled. “Open it,” she ordered.

Fili pulled the ribbon off and lifted the lid. Inside he found the ankle sheathes he’d been eyeing earlier that day. They’d fit discreetly inside his boots, allowing him to carry another set of knives in addition to the throwing axes he wore there. He grinned. “You know me well,” he said.

“I thought you could use a way to carry a few more items for your arsenal.”

He chuckled and closed the box. “I’ll make new knives for them as soon as I return to Erebor.” He set his gift aside and picked up the thin box again and held it out to her.

“What’s in it?” she asked, her expression skeptical.

“Just open it,” he said.

She tipped the lid back and her eyes widened. “Fili,” she said. “I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can,” he said and lifted the collier from the box. It was delicate, made of silver with tiny, clear, bright gems along the metal. “Tilda told me you planned to have gems in your hair but none others. No friend of a dwarf prince can go to a dance so unadorned. At least you have earrings.” He stepped behind her before she could protest and quickly clasped the necklace around her throat. It fell neatly, following the curve of her neck down, across her collarbones to come to rest at the hollow of her throat, trailing a little more of the chain and three larger gems down her chest to just an inch or so above the top of her dress. “Now you’re perfect.” He said.

“Fili,” she admonished turning to face him, even has one of her hands went up to brush along the necklace resting along her collarbone.

“You can’t give it back. It’s bad luck. Dwarrow superstition.” He held his hands up, smirking at her and taking a step back. “Ask Kili. He’ll tell you.”

Sigrid sighed and shook her head. “Where is he anyway?”

“Everyone left before us. Should we go before they start to wonder where we are?”

“Just let me get my coat.”

~*~*~

The feast was delicious and full of joy and laughter as people rejoiced over the turning of the sun and the lengthening of days. Once it was over, tables were cleared away and the younger attendees and many of the oldest returned to their homes as the dancing started. Tilda was allowed to stay for the first hour and couldn’t be happier.

Bard opened the dance with Dis in a show of solidarity between the two kingdoms. Kili and Tauriel joined them soon after the music started as did Fili and Tilda. Sigrid and Bain joined as well before the rest of the attendees joined in. After half an hour of music from Dale’s musicians, dwarrow stepped forward to provide music. Kili reclaimed his One from Bain, thrilled at the chance to show her how to dance like a dwarf. Fili danced with his mother, pleased at the bright smile on her face. It had been too long since he’d seen that much joy from her as they danced with and around each other, their feet moving quickly through the stomping steps despite the weight of their steel boots.

“Thank you Fili,” Dis said, hugging her son when the song ended and then pressing her forehead to his. “I haven’t danced like that since your father.” Her smile turned a little wistful.

“Are you happy Mum?” he asked quietly, his hands on her shoulders. It always alarmed him, the moments he realized he’d grown taller than her somewhere along the line.

Dis patted his cheek and stepped away. “I never thought I’d ever return to Erebor,” she said. “It does me good to be home with my sons. I’d be happy if that were all I had, but you and Kili are happy as well and no mother can ask for more. Even if her son is marrying an elf.” She glanced over at where Kili was standing on his toes to kiss Tauriel’s cheek. A few women looked on, scandalized.

“She’s not a bad sort, as far as elves go,” Fili said.

Dis shook her head. “No, I guess she’s not. It’ll just take time to get used to I suppose. Now,” she said and smiled at him. “Off with you. Don’t spend the evening dancing with your old amad. Find a pretty young thing to dance with.”

Fili nodded and glanced around. He’d thought maybe Tilda but she was already holding her father’s hands and standing on his boots, a bright grin on her face as they listened to the opening tempo of the next song to decide if they knew a dance that would match it.

He found Sigrid next, standing off to the side of where Bain danced with a young lass with pink cheeks.

“Care to dance?” Fili asked, holding a hand out to Sigrid.

“I don’t know the steps,” she said.

“It’s a slow one. I’ll teach you,” he told her and pulled her away from her post near the edge of the crowds. He helped her take the proper position and helped her find the way through the simplest form of the dance, linking arms with her and turning first one way then the other. He changed their grip and the way they moved, adding a few stomping steps, careful not to hit her feet, clad in the dainty slippers that they were. She laughed when she missed steps, apologizing when she leaned too hard into him when she lost her balance.

The night continued and he danced with many there, dwarrowdam and young woman alike. When the dwarrow band started a drinking song, he even grabbed Kili and the two led their people through the words, doing the most complicated form of the dance as they grinned and belted the song at the tops of their lungs.

It was as he and Kili were halfway through the dance that he caught sight of Sigrid, grinning, laughing, and clapping along with the music as she watched the two princes dance. A stray thought popped into his head.  
Maybe he could marry her.

He may never love her like Kili loved Tauriel or the way his mother had loved his father. But he loved Sigrid as his best friend. Perhaps marrying her and doing away with all of the other courtship challenges and suitors would be the best for them. It was an errant thought and not likely to ever come about. He discarded it quickly or tried to. But Thorin and Bilbo seemed to be making things work between them so perhaps the thought of marrying his friend wasn’t such a stretch of the imagination. Maybe if the challengers for his courtship never improved, he’d consider bringing it up with Sigrid.

Perhaps it would work. For now, he would take a break from the dancing and sit. He’d been doing well without his cane so far that evening and for most of the day, but his hip was really starting to hurt. He sat out the next few dances to think and rest his leg before once again claiming Sigrid’s hand for a reel.

The worst part of his earlier realization had him cringing. He could already hear Kili’s voice sing-song “I told you!” in his ear. Hopefully, it would be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! I love you all! Please continue to leave them. I'd love to make a few friends within the fandom.
> 
> Also, I take prompts. Please leave them. I need to keep my brain moving when I'm struggling with this.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters and various conversations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I had sug a great response from the last chapter that I was blushing madly and internally squealing in delight. You are all amazing! Please keep those comments and kudos and subscriptions coming! I wrote so much over the week thanks to all the encouragement. 
> 
> There is an off-camera assault in this chapter. Please read accordingly.

Chapter 6

To Fili, Son of Dis, Crown Prince Under the Mountain

Fili (and Kili as well, if you’re there),

I’m glad you were able to join us for midwinter. There were many comments from my people as well as yours on the evening. Everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Tilda won’t stop talking about how much fun she had dancing with everyone. I admit I haven’t had as much fun at a dance since I was her age. The dwarrow dancing was especially entertaining. I was very impressed by the dance the two of you did together. I also liked learning your dances as well.

Everything was such a success that many have asked my father and me to invite the dwarrow to our next celebration as well. Da and I think it’s a wonderful idea and a great way to increase good relations amongst our peoples. I would like to encourage it but also add parts of your culture to our next celebration if we can. Do you have any ideas? I know you are partial to competitions of fighting prowess but what else could we include? It will be months before we are able to hold any celebrations again but I’d like to have ideas to take to the council in advance.

To answer the question about courting in your last letter, it really depends on those involved. Da wants me to have a say in my marriage. He married my mum for love and he wants me to have the same choice. The only problem is that, now that he’s to be crowned king, I must marry for political advantage which limits my choices. I am of age and expected to make a decision soon, according to my father’s council. I have the advantage of a caring father in that. There are many young women who are not allowed much choice if any in their own matches, especially those with political positions. Marriages are often made for political advantage without concern for the feelings of those involved. I am grateful for what little choice I have, but the pressure from the council is increasing steadily. For now, I can at least claim a lack of suitors. One of the small blessings all this snow brings.

You did not tell me the results of the snow sculpture competition you mentioned in your last letter. I quite like the idea and may suggest it here as well. I know of many children and even adults that would find great joy in such a thing. I hope you don’t mind me stealing your idea.

The rematch you mentioned is something easily arranged. We don’t need to wait for the next competition. I’ll accept your challenge any day. Tell Kili that I don’t know how to use any other weapon. I have an interest in throwing knives but mostly because they’re usually at hand at home. Not that I expect to ever be attacked while in my own kitchen, but one never knows.

I hope your Yule celebrations went well. Did Master Bilbo bake? I’m impressed by the length of your celebrations. Twelve days seems like quite the event. Are you allowed to tell me any of the details beyond what you’ve already shared? Did everyone enjoy the gifts we sent back with you?

I don’t think I’ve heard the story about flaming pinecones being thrown at wargs and orcs. Do you care to share the details? It sounds a most amusing tale.

We are staying warm here. Now that midwinter is over, I’m afraid we have little to look forward to. Tilda’s birthday is in another month but that is all for my family until after the snows melt. I will miss my walks up the mountain. Much of my time is currently spent indoors, either helping my people or here in my home working on various projects to keep myself busy. It is promising to be a long winter. Please, if you have time, keep writing. Otherwise, I may grow bored and do something drastic.

-S

 

 ~*~*~

 

To Sigrid, Lady of Dale, Daughter of Bard the Dragonslayer

Sigrid,

I’ll not take my time in addressing this. Human courting ways sound absolutely horrendous, at least for females ( _Horrible! How do you stand it?_ ). Kili obviously agrees with me ( _You bet I do! You should come to live here with us. No one will make you marry anyone you don’t want to. That’s just wrong!_ ). Know that you have friends here in Erebor if you ever need us to come to your defense if your father’s council becomes too overbearing. We can claim it will hurt relations with the dwarrow if nothing else. None of us would ever allow a forced marriage ( _Absolutely! Might take a bit to convince Uncle to interfere, but we’ll make it work. Our mum would be absolutely ready to defend you._ ) He’s right.

Somehow, I can see you rolling your eyes at me from there, ready to wave my concern away ( _I have a solution to the entire mess but Fee thinks it’s a bad idea_ ). I don’t think it’s a bad idea, just not exactly possible considering circumstances ( _But_ ). Not another word or I won’t let you join in on these letters anymore and I’ll make sure none of the ravens take messages for you ( _You’re no fun. You should just do it!_ ) I can’t! Ignore him, please. He’s writing utter nonsense ( _I am not! If you would just_ ). I said I can’t. Leave it alone Kee. In any case, I’ll let the matter drop for now. If you do find yourself in need of a friend, let us know. We will find a way to help.

Your suggestion about bringing in more dwarrow traditions into your celebrations to increase inter-kingdom relations is a sound one. I quite agree ( _So do I. It sounds fun!_ ). As for ideas to share, well, at such celebrations we have open exhibitions of crafting. Masters of some crafts will come and display their work and show how to create some of it. The glassblowers are particularly entertaining to watch ( _Ah, thanks Fee! I knew you liked us!_ ), even if their youngest Master is a pain in the neck ( _Hey! I resent that_ ). You could send letters to the various guilds asking if they’d like to send someone to give demonstrations. It’s a great way to expose different trades to those that haven’t decided on a craft yet ( _It’s how I chose mine_.). We can send a few dwarrow over to put together some of our games if you like as well as our usual vendors. I already know you like struvor but there are many other foods we dwarrow are famous for ( _Come to the mountain some time. We’ll have Bombur and his cooks whip something amazing up for you._ ). Does that help? Would you like more suggestions?

Yule was just fine ( _It was really great for most of us! Some of us were too busy sulking that they couldn’t leave the mountain to see their friend.)_. Ignore him. Please. He’s a pain and doesn’t know what he’s saying. There’s not much to really tell about it. Lots of feasting, exhibitions like I mentioned earlier and games. Food ( _Oh… the food! Glorious, delicious food!_ ) and drink ( _The ale was particularly good_.) and present exchanging ( _Thank you for the nuts! They were so good!_ ) So good he refused to let his big brother taste even one ( _Get your own!_ ). Everyone passes on their appreciation for the gifts. Ori especially liked the cape you made for him. He wears it around the mountain all the time now.

Bofur and Bifor won the sculpture competition. They made this amazing ( _Seriously, I still can’t believe it was made from snow_ ) replica of the trolls that almost ate us on the journey here. They even created all of us all trussed up in sacks or being roasted on a spit ( _Engineering marvel that was_.) over a fire ( _Who thinks to make fire out of snow?_ ). You should have seen it. Absolutely incredible. It’s since been obliterated by all the snow that’s fallen since then. Ori made a rather impressive sketch of it. We’ll have to show it to you sometime.

As for the pinecone story, well, maybe we’ll have Bilbo tell it to you. He’s much better at telling stories than I am. It wouldn’t seem all that amazing if I told it but when he does, he has everyone entranced, including those of us that lived through it ( _and he somehow makes it more about adventure and less about mind-numbing terror and survival._ ). He makes a great wordsmith. I think Ori is thinking about seeing if he wants to join the scribe’s guild. Where Bilbo isn’t a dwarf it will take some research to even find out if that’s even allowed. I imagine though, that if he wants to he’ll be allowed to ( _Considering he’s the consort and all_.).

We look forward to seeing you again but I’m afraid I have no idea when that will be. Keep writing through the winter. We will do our best to respond, even in short notes. Stay warm. Watch out for wolves.

-F ( _and K)_

 

 ~*~*~

 

Fili was lost in thought on one of the first decent spring days not heralded by rain. After a winter of exchanged letters going back and forth to Dale, the snows had finally melted enough for him to climb the mountain without risking slipping and falling in the mud. He now had a pile of them on his desk and he reread them often, delighting in Sigrid’s news of her family and her fascination with learning about Kili’s mastery or of the many antics they got up to. He was thinking about the next letter he would write her if he didn’t see her sooner when soft crying drew him out of his thoughts as he reached the ridge where he’d often met Sigrid before the snows had hit.

“Lady Sigrid?” he called. “Are you here?”

“Your Highness?” The call was tentative, quiet. He followed the sounds of sniffling and found Sigrid sitting in her usual spot, wiping at her eyes with a handkerchief while Magnus lay next to her, leaning his considerable bulk against her side. Had he gotten even bigger? He’d already reached Fili’s ribs when he’d last seen him just before Yule. Both had mud slathered thickly up their legs. The way up their side of the mountain was still wet from the melting snows.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?” Fili asked sinking down in front of her and placing his hand on her upper arm.

“I had to sic Magnus on a suitor today,” she said and sniffed again. She reached out and buried her hand into the dog’s fur. “Sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

“Are you hurt?” Fili asked. She didn’t respond. “Sigrid, did he hurt you?”

After another moment’s pause as she continued to fight back the tears, she nodded and sat up straighter. She pushed the collar of her dress aside, displaying pale, freckled skin marred by a large, dark bruise on the opposite shoulder Fili gripped. The dwarf’s mouth thinned to a tight line.

“Magnus got a few good bites in and chased him to the city gates.”

“Good boy Magnus,” Fili said fiercely. He shifted so he sat next to Sigrid on her free side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, careful of the bruising and tugged until she leaned against him, resting her head on top of his as he rubbed her arm.

“I’m scared he’ll come back,” she admitted after a while. Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks.

Sending a quick prayer up to Mahal that what he was about to suggest was indeed as good an idea as it sounded in his own head and like a better idea than when it spouted out of Kili’s mouth, he said, “I have a thought on how to keep him and other suitors away for good.”

“What do you mean?” Sigrid sat up and looked over at him, once again wiping away the evidence of her fear and worry. Magnus shifted against her and she placed a hand on his broad back. He settled again with a sigh. Fili patted the dog in approval of his wariness to anything around Sigrid.

“Do you know there are rumors about us amongst your people and even some of mine?”

“Rumors? What kind of rumors?” She tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows coming together in a frown as she finished wiping the last of the tears from her face.

“The kind where people think we’re courting in secret behind our families’ backs.”

Sigrid’s hand stilled on her cheek. “We’re what now?”

Fili nodded. “According to Nori, it’s apparently a grand love story and a lot of your city and now parts of mine are buying into it, quietly cheering us on from the sidelines. From what he’s overheard, you won’t accept any suitors because your heart is set on the handsome, dashing, golden crown prince of Erebor-” Sigrid snorted in a rather unladylike manner. “Nori’s words not mine,” Fili said and continued with his narrative, “-who will have no other than the beautiful and fierce Lady of Dale.”

“Where in the name of the Valar did they get such an idea?” she demanded, a slightly wet sounding chuckle escaping her.

“Nori thinks it started during the midsummer festival last year. He thinks the sword competition was the beginning, whether it was me commenting on you calling my face pretty so publicly during our match or my giving away the prize instead of claiming a lass to give my favor to, he’s not sure but he’s pretty sure that’s where the rumors started. They’ve only gotten more prevalent the more we’re seen together in Dale. When people saw the gift I gave you at midwinter, the rumors exploded.”

Sigrid laughed. “Absurd.”

“I know,” Fili agreed, but then sobered, “but it does give us an opportunity.”

“You did say you had an idea,” Sigrid said as she rubbed at the scruff around Magnus’ neck.

“Neither of us wants to marry someone we don’t know,” he said and then took a deep breath. He’d thought about this for months, especially as courtship challenges occurred or he heard of Sigrid turning away another suitor, the few that made it to their cities during the winter. He’d thought about it more and more with each letter that came to him. Each time he received a letter detailing a suitor or he turned down a Challenge, his thought from midwinter came back. Now that his best friend had been hurt, maybe it was time to voice the thought to her as well. “So why not marry each other?”

Sigrid’s hand stilled in its rubbing. Magnus lifted his head to look at her, silently asking why she stopped. She started rubbing again. “Marry each other?” she asked.

“Suitors aren’t going to stop coming until you’re married,” he told her, “and I’d frankly rather marry a friend than someone who just wants me for my title and good looks.” His lips turned up on one side of his face in a smirk.

Sigrid stayed silent for a while, thinking his proposal over. “So we just agree with the rumors? Say they’re all true and that we’ve been secretly courting each other?”

“Why not?” Fili asked. “According to public perception, that’s what’s been going on. Your family knows differently obviously and so does Kili and Tauriel, but no one else has any idea, not even my mother and Thorin to be honest. They’ve been watching me like a hawk every time I return from Dale as if they expect to see engagement beads and a betrothal braid in my hair.”

Sigrid leaned over, burying her face in Magnus fur as she thought. On the one hand, she’d always thought she’d marry for love like her parents had. On the other, every suitor who had come to call had only truly seemed interested in her future title of Princess of Dale. Some of the suitors had tried to force her to marry them with underhanded deeds and threats, knowing that if they stole her virtue or tarnished her reputation enough she’d have no choice but to marry. If she married Fili, she’d at least know her husband was honorable and trustworthy.

Fili waited while she thought. “You don’t have to answer now,” he finally said after about an hour of silence. “We’re in no rush to decide.”

“I’ll not lie to my father about the arrangement,” Sigrid said. “If he agrees to this, he’ll know there is no love in our marriage.”

Fili nodded. “I know and I will do my best to behave in a manner that will not cause him or you distress. This is only if you want Sigrid. I’ll not force you into anything and if at any point during the courtship you change your mind, we can end it with no repercussions.”

“I don’t want to take away your chance of meeting your One someday,” she said.

Fili stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. “I don’t think I have a One,” he admitted quietly. When Sigrid lifted an eyebrow at him, questioning, he said, “Most dwarrow are born with what we call a Longing. It’s a sort of feeling that is always pulling us toward our One. Some of us, those that we believe Mahal didn’t split into two pieces when he made us don’t have that. We are whole and thus free to choose someone else to love instead of forever searching for the source of the Longing.”

“And you don’t feel that?”

“I never have,” he said, nodding. “Kili did until he met Tauriel. He knows she’s his One. He’s told me what it feels like, the Longing and then to have finally found his other half. I don’t feel any of what he’s described.”

Sigrid nodded. She continued to scratch Magnus, running her hands through his generous fur. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Fili asked, turning to look at her.

“Like you said. I’d rather marry a friend I can trust instead of someone who wants me for my title.”

“If you’re sure,” Fili said. “If you change your mind at any point, we can call everything off, all right?”

“Yes, all right.” She smiled at him. “So, what do we do now?”

Fili climbed to his feet. “Now, I go talk to your father about courting you.” He reached down for her hand and helped her to her feet. “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said and then looked around. “Where’s your cane?”

Fili stood a little straighter. “I don’t need it anymore,” he said, grinning wider. “That’s why I originally came. I’d hoped you’d be up here and I wanted to show you.”

“That’s wonderful!” she said. “So you’re healed completely then?”

“Oin says I’m as healthy as I’ll get. I still ache when the weather is really bad but I’m able to walk and run and train and fight without any pain.”

“I’m so happy for you,” she said and hugged the arm she held briefly as they started their way down the path.

 

 ~*~*~

 

“You want to what now?” Bard asked, turning in his chair to stare at his eldest daughter and the dwarf standing next to her.

“Court Lady Sigrid,” Fili repeated, “if you’ll allow it.”

Bard looked from him to his daughter. “Sigrid?” he asked, his tone warning.

“It won’t be a love match,” she admitted, “but I’d rather marry someone I know and trust than a stranger that would hurt me the moment it was convenient.”

Bard rubbed a hand down his face. “Sig,” he said, “I know this morning was bad.”

“Yes, it was,” she cut him off. “I’m tired Da. I don’t want to keep seeing suitors that I have to sic my dog on. I just want to be done. Fili is as good a choice as any other, if not better as we know his true worth. He’s my friend.”

“It would strengthen ties with Erebor,” Bard admitted, heaving a sigh, “but I’d hoped you would find love with one of the men that came calling for you.”

“I’m too sensible for that Da. Too much like you in that regard.”

“I loved your mother dearly,” Bard’s smile was thin and a bit sad. “I still wish you’d found love.” He stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head and standing. He walked over to the two. “All right,” he said. “I’ll agree to it but you have to deal with getting your uncle to agree to it too.” He looked at Fili.

“Dwarrow court differently than we do Da,” Sigrid said. “We’ll initiate the courtship before Prince Fili takes the lead.”

“Initiate it how?” Bard asked feeling doom sneaking toward him.

“All I can tell you is that she’ll have to fight one of my uncle’s guards,” Fili said. “I can warn you that Tauriel will be coming to visit you in the next few days though. She said she wanted to talk to Sigrid about how her courtship with my brother is going.”

“Dwarves,” Bard grumbled.

Sigrid gave him a hug. “Thanks, Da,” she said. “I know it’s not ideal, but it’s what I want.”

“If you’re sure,” he said, rubbing her shoulders and trying to not feel like a complete failure as a father.

“I am,” she said.

“All right. Off with you. Go feed the rumor mill about your supposed secret courtship before we announce it as being an official courtship after we convince the King Under the Mountain of your intentions.”

Sigrid beamed at her father and she and Fili left his office, Magnus following behind, tail wagging slightly.

 

 ~*~*~

 

Two days later, Tauriel came to visit Sigrid, warning her of how the beginning of her courtship with Kili had started. “Bring a gift that shows your knowledge of and adoration for the prince. Something he would want,” the elf said, “and be prepared to fight whoever guards King Thorin that day. Also bring everyone in your household that would be impacted by the marriage, to display that you have their support in the matter.”

Sigrid nodded. “I have work to do then,” she said. They said their goodbyes after more chatter and Tauriel left back toward the mountain. Sigrid headed into the market, seeking textile merchants and gem sellers. She purchased the finest, softest smoke-grey material, threads made of actual silver and gold, sapphires, and all other materials required to make the finest coat she could design to fit the crown prince of Erebor before heading home and secluding herself into her room to work, her personal coin allowance severely diminished.

It took almost two months of working in every spare moment she had and even some she didn’t, foregoing what most would call decent amounts of sleep and ignoring a duty or two that she could convince herself others could handle without here. She continued to deal with various suitors that came to call, all falling short of the desire she had for a husband. In that time, Magnus chased two more suitors off at Sigrid’s urging when they proved too stubborn or too enthusiastic in their efforts to court her.

When her project was finished and her fingers thoroughly callused by wielding her needles and thread and scissors, she took it to her father to show him. He admired her handiwork for a time before setting it aside and drawing her into a hug. “It’s a fine gift,” he said. “Are you sure you wish to give it and pursue all that it entails?”

“We must make sure our alliance with the dwarves is as strong as may be,” she reminded him. “The best way to do that is through a marriage. You said so yourself.”

Bard hung his head. “And I regret giving you the idea,” he grumbled.

“Da,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We know Prince Fili. We know he is honorable and kind and just. We do not know that of any of the suitors that come seeking favor.” She let her nerves shine through, her lip and chin quivering slightly. “I would rather marry one I know to be honorable and consider a friend than a complete stranger that may show himself to be a brute and a scoundrel. You know that.”

Bard patted her hand and rubbed it a moment. “All right my girl. You speak much sense. We’ll prepare to leave for the mountain tomorrow. I’ll send word to seek an audience with King Thorin.”

“Yes, Da.” She gathered up the gift carefully and retreated to her room, Magnus padding along behind her.

Once alone again, she set her burden aside and dropped to her knees to bury her face into Magnus’ fur. “This is it, boy,” she said. “There’s no turning back now. We must hope King Thorin will see the sense in the match.” Magnus licked her from chin to forehead when she pulled back and she laughed, wiping slobber away with her sleeve. “Enough worrying,” she chided herself. “To work.” She started gathering her things, making sure her sword and dagger were sharp and ready, that her finest clothes were packed and her best travel gear was ready for the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for your responses! Please keep them coming. I love all the response you are willing to heap onto my humbled shoulders. Also, if you have a suggestion for a side story or really any prompt at all, please feel free to leave them. I'll do my best to fill them. I like a challenge.
> 
> No dogs (or idiots) were harmed in the writing of this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid flips Dwalin the bird.
> 
> Dis doesn't know whether to smile or cry.
> 
> Fili forgets something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! I'm posting early this week. I just couldn't wait to get this chapter up. Honestly, I thought about posting it on Monday and I probably should have. I wouldn't have driven myself nearly as crazy if I had. Anyway... Let's get to it!
> 
> Unbeta'd as always. All mistakes are my own.

Chapter 7

Fili groaned when he was told another Challenger would be arriving that afternoon to seek his favor. He dreaded the afternoon when he would have to arrive in the throne room to deal with the problem again. Instead of wasting his morning in despair, he went to the training yards, letting Dwalin beat him to a pulp until the noon bell rang. After he ate, he returned to his room as the same foreboding settled into him again. He changed into fresh clothing, something fitting for the throne room but not his finest. No point in seeming eager to please.

He dragged his feet all the way to the throne room.

“Cheer up Brother,” Kili said just outside the doors. “Perhaps this one will have some sense.”

Fili cast a dark look at him. “Doubtful,” he groused and then stood straight as the door was opened for him.

Their guests had not arrived yet it seemed. Pity. He always took a sort of vindictive pleasure showing up late for such meetings. Sighing, he went and took his place standing next to his uncle. He dropped into the depths of his own mind, ignoring his surroundings.

Kili’s elbow jabbed into his side sharply, pulling him out of his thoughts and he glared at his brother who was grinning excitedly. “What did I tell you, Fee?” he asked softly so Thorin wouldn’t hear them. Fili turned his attention to the group striding toward them. Sigrid caught his eye briefly but then glanced to the side of him.

Sigrid was the one? The one coming to ask to Challenge for him? He could have jumped for joy if it wouldn’t have been unseemly. He did heave a relieved sigh. He’d started to wonder if she’d changed her mind of their scheme. Instead, he held his peace and his place, hoping Thorin would consider the proposal seriously. 

Balin received the scroll Bard handed over and read it aloud. Fili ignored the formal declaration of intent, his eyes remaining on Sigrid as she stood proud and tall next to her father. Thorin spoke to Bard and Fili dimly registered the debate of the reason for their decision to come forward at this time. He heard Bard speak of making ties between Erebor and Dale stronger through marriage, increase in trust between their peoples and so on and so forth, all the political nonsense that all Challengers brought forth that didn’t matter. Finally, after a half hour’s deliberation, Thorin turned to Sigrid.

“You know what you ask child?” he asked.

“I am aware,” Sigrid said. “I come seeking the opportunity to court Crown Prince Fili, Son of Dis.”

“So be it,” Thorin said. “Let the trial begin. Dwalin.”

Fili blanched and looked to his uncle’s other side. He hadn’t realized who was standing there. Of all the days for Dwalin to be Thorin’s personal guard (admittedly a common occurrence), it had to be today. None of those pursuing Fili had beaten Dwalin yet. He knew Sigrid’s level of skill. She didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in a dragon’s mouth.

The captain of the guard stepped forward, pulling his axes off his back. “I’ll not go easy on you, lass,” he warned.

“I wouldn’t want you to,” she said as those around her stepped back to give them room on the narrow walkway. Dwalin rushed her as soon as he felt the others were far enough away.

Fili leaned forward, a shout on the tip of his tongue for her to move.

It wasn’t necessary.

Sigrid met Dwalin, drawing her sword and guarding against his downward strike in the same motion, her feet spread for balance and surety of footing. She jerked her sword up and back with a wordless yell, trying to catch the ax’s head and rip it from Dwalin’s hand only to abort the move and bring her sword around to the side to stop the swing of his other ax. She parried and blocked Grasper and Keeper, keeping her feet and pushing forward against Dwalin, trying to get too close for the axes’ reach. She found an opening and swung, slipping inside his guard only to be buffeted to the side by Dwalin’s knee to her ribs. She grunted and rolled away, keeping her sword out of harm’s way and coming up close to the edge of the walk, grimacing in pain from the blow but she stepped forward again, not waiting for the dwarf to come to her and push her off the edge. 

The fight continued, both combatants striking and parrying each other in turn. Sigrid managed to twist into a blow, clipping Dwalin along the side of his head with her elbow as she got around behind him. He turned with her, snarling and coming in with both axes raised. She blocked, twisted under his arms, and went down, Dwalin’s steal-booted foot stomping on her right ankle. He stepped on her sword with his other foot when the weapon hit the ground. He shifted and snarled when she let go of the blade, twisting her body and wrapping her uninjured leg around his knees and heaving. He dropped his axes and caught himself. Quickly, he lurched back to the girl and wrapped a hand around her neck. Fili felt sick, knowing how easily Dwalin could and would break her. Sigrid gave a sharp, two-note whistle and snapped her fingers on one hand and raised the middle finger on her other, directing the back of it towards Dwalin.

Magnus barreled into the large dwarf, knocking him off Sigrid. The hound lunged forward, biting down on Dwalin’s armored forearm and pushing the dwarf onto his back. Sigrid took up her sword again and limp-raced to where Dwalin was shoving at the animal’s head, trying to get free.

“Magnus,” Sigrid called. The dog’s eyes rose to look at her without releasing Dwalin. She made a circling gesture with her finger and the dog let go of Dwalin to come to sit at her side. Before Dwalin recovered, she set the edge of her sword on his neck, pressing down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you yield?” she panted, sweat streaming down her face, soaking her hair and plastering the loose strands to her neck, cheeks, and forehead. Pain lined her features as she tried to stand balanced without putting too much weight on her injured leg.

“Aye,” Dwalin growled and climbed to his feet when Sigrid moved her blade away. She pulled a cloth from her pocket and wiped the blood off her sword. “You cheated,” the old dwarf growled. 

“I was told to bring what weapons I would need in a fight,” Sigrid said primly. “Magnus, for all that he is as dear to me as a friend, is still a weapon of protection.” She bent to scratch the dog’s head and face. “Aren’t you Magnus? Yes, you’re a good boy,” she cooed, obviously just to annoy Dwalin. Kili snorted where he stood next to Fili as the dog licked her chin happily. 

Bard returned to Sigrid’s side, the rest of their entourage following and Dwalin returned to his place next to Thorin, not bothering to stop the blood dripping down his neck. Fili knew he wouldn’t bother, wearing the wound as a reminder of his own failure in the fight. Eventually, Oin would find him and make him clean it out at least.

Words were exchanged as Fili watched Sigrid. She favored the leg Dwalin had kicked to get her to fall, keeping her weight shifted to the other. He motioned a runner over. “Send for Master Oin,” he instructed quietly and the dwarfling ran off.

“I have a gift for his royal highness as well,” Sigrid said, her voice drawing Fili back into the conversation. She turned and accepted a bundle from someone behind her and limped forward to hand it to Balin. It was quickly inspected for anything harmful before being handed to Fili for him to inspect.

He unfolded the coat, his eyebrows rising at the garment. The main part of it was the softest material he’d ever felt, with designs favored by his people embroidered along the edges with real silver and gold and the tiniest of gemstones. The inside of the coat was lined with long, soft fur. 

“What fur is that?” Thorin asked. 

“Wolf, Your Majesty,” Sigrid said.

Thorin’s eyebrows rose. “And where did you get it?” he asked.

“Off the two wolves I killed last winter,” Sigrid said.

“You killed wolves?” Dwalin asked. “Or did your hound do it?”

Fili bristled at Dwalin's tone. The entire mountain had heard the tale by now. Why didn't the guard acknowledge her accomplishment when he already knew of it?

“Magnus was only a few months old,” Sigrid said. “I was caught outside when they first attacked. He held one off while I killed the other and then I killed the first.”

“Smart girl,” Kili murmured to Fili. “A gift that shows a craft, knowledge of our ways, support for our craftsmen in the materials, and her skills in combat all wrapped up in one. She must really want this marriage to happen.”

“Shut it Kee,” Fili hissed, not taking his eyes from the coat, assessing it as he should and checking the quality of her work. He waited, knowing it would be unseemly if he accepted it too quickly. Finally, when he couldn’t wait any longer, he looked up. “I accept,” he told his uncle. To support his words, he removed his own coat and shrugged the new one on. Discreetly, he sniffed at the collar, recognizing Sigrid’s scent in the fur. She would have been handling it for weeks for it to smell so strongly of her and no longer of the wolves. He cast a smirk at his brother before looking back at Sigrid. “Thank you, Lady Sigrid. The quality of your work speaks of your desire for success in our courtship. I will strive towards that success.”

Sigrid curtsied to him, their eyes meeting for a moment and humor and happiness peaked back at him from her gaze, a small splash of color in her cheeks. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized she had fought Dwalin in a dress and his admiration for her skills in combat increased. “I thank you for your consideration, Prince Fili,” she said.

Thorin stepped down from his throne. Fili and Kili followed him. Once he reached the Men, he extended a hand. “I look forward to the possible joining of our families, Lord Bard,” he said.

“As do I,” the Bowman said and took Thorin’s hand.

Thorin released Bard and turned to Sigrid, looking up a few inches. “Congratulations Lady Sigrid,” he said. “You’re the first female to best Dwalin since my sister.”

“Only because she cheated,” Dwalin groused.

“Don’t be a sore loser Brother,” Balin admonished. “Sit down lass before you make the injury worse.” He pointed to the steps leading to the throne. “I’m pretty sure I saw a runner leave to fetch a healer after your match?” he looked over at Fili and Kili for confirmation. Fili nodded.

Sigrid limped over to the indicated step and sat. Magnus took his place at her side and she dug her fingers into the scruff around his neck. Fili had a moment to notice the tremor running through them. Oin rushed into the room the moment she was sitting.

“All right. What poor lass do I have to patch up after Dwalin beat her to a pulp in a failed attempt to court the prince this time?” he asked.

“You are mistaken Oin,” Balin said loudly. “She beat him, though it is her leg that needs looking after.”

Oin’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Did she now?” he asked and settled down in front of her. He took her foot and removed her boot without addressing her. The swelling around her ankle made Fili cringe. She shouldn’t walk on that, he thought. It’s probably broken by the looks of the swelling.

“Next person to repeat that is going to have their arms ripped off,” Dwalin growled.

“Oh no,” Sigrid said, shaking her head and giving the large dwarf a wide grin. “I beat you in a fight. I’m taking those bragging rights with me to the grave. If that day arrives sooner than I’d prefer and I’m short a pair of arms, then so be it.”

Kili snorted before falling into a fit of laughter, leaning on Fili who was admittedly not fairing much better. Bard laughed as well, years dropping off his face in his mirth. Dwalin’s scowl deepened but a hint of humor tugged at the corners of his lips.

“A bad sprain,” Oin finally said after poking at Sigrid’s ankle. “Stay off it for now. We’ll get you some crutches. Once you have them, come to the infirmary and I’ll wrap it up for you.”

“Thank you Master Oin,” Sigrid said. She loosened the straps on her boot and carefully pulled it back on over the injury.

“We shall allow the time it takes to retrieve them for the two of you to be alone,” Thorin told Fili quietly. “I suggest you make the most of it.” He smiled a little before turning to usher the others in the room out, ordering Kili to go and get the crutches.

Fili grabbed Kili’s arm before he could leave. “Take your time Kee. Please.”

Kili wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him and nodded, snickering as Fili smacked the back of his head. He left at a much more sedate pace than was strictly necessary.

Once the room was empty, Fili turned to Sigrid. “You did it,” he breathed in awe.

She grinned in return. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “When I saw Dwalin standing next to your uncle, I thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to win.”

“You are amazing,” Fili said, taking her hands in his. “I was terrified for you. I was afraid I’d have to step in and then all would have been lost.”

She curled her fingers around his. “It’s a good thing I didn’t fail then.”

Fili laughed. “A good thing indeed.” He leaned back so he could look at her face. “We are officially courting,” he said after a moment.

“We are,” Sigrid agreed with a content sigh. “No more brutish suitors coming to call. No more awkward outings between strangers.”

“No more watching Dwalin beat up dwarrowdams and shoddy gifts.”

“Should we be alone?” She glanced around for anyone to act as a chaperone.

Fili’s grin just grew wider. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her up, and spun her around. 

“This isn’t proper!” she cried with a laugh.

“You’re in the mountain now. Dwarrow courting rules apply,” he said, still holding her up. “We’re allowed a little time together but not so much that we can get in trouble.” Sigrid kicked her feet up behind her to keep them off the floor and Fili spun them around again, laughing in success. They lost themselves in their joy until someone cleared their throat nearby.

Fili jerked in surprise and glared at the intruder while carefully setting Sigrid back down. Kili grinned and held up the crutches he’d retrieved. “Sorry Fee,” he said. “I gave you all the time I could.”

“Thank you, Prince Kili,” Sigrid said evenly despite the blush raging across her cheeks. She accepted the crutches and managed to stay upright on them without falling over. “Shall we?” she asked, nodding towards the doors where the others had left.

Fili and Kili walked with her to the infirmary, Magnus keeping pace on one side of her. “So, what happens next?” Sigrid asked quietly, ignoring the stares of the dwarrow they passed. 

“Now your courtship begins,” Kili said with a grin. “Fee has to start working to win and keep your affections.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning every day I will be allowed to step away from my duties to see you or work on gifts for you. Which also means Kili gets to take on my duties as well as his own.” Fili grinned over at his brother.

Kili made a face at him then added. “It also means negotiations, courting gifts, parties, and, most importantly, everyone focusing on the crown prince’s courting a human instead of my courting an elf.”

“You’re delusional if you think people are going to stop looking at you and Tauriel,” Fili said as he opened a door and led her inside. She told Magnus to stay outside the door, knowing an animal in an infirmary was typically unwelcome, no matter how well groomed.

“But scrutiny will diminish,” Kili said with a grin. “And speaking of the world’s prettiest elf.” He bounded across the room to where Tauriel sat at a table preparing supplies for use in the infirmary. He greeted her with a loud, showy kiss on the cheek.

Fili led Sigrid over to where Oin waited at another table, supplies set aside for caring for her leg. After sitting on the table as indicated, Oin removed her boot and started working on her ankle, applying a poultice and wrapping it. As he did, Sigrid looked to where her father was talking with Thorin.

“Should I be worried?” she whispered to Fili, indicating the two.

“Probably not,” he said. “If my mother were with them, then there’d be cause to worry.”

Sigrid looked at him, her eyes growing a bit wide. “I didn’t even think of how she’d react,” she said, a bit of panic rising in her.

“We’ll need to go and tell her. I think she’s in a council meeting right now considering she wasn’t present for your challenge. She usually comes to those.”

“It surprises me that your mother wasn’t there.”

Fili grinned. “Don’t worry. She’ll be there for all the negotiations and everything after.”

“You better go see her the moment that council meeting ends,” Thorin said, coming over to them as Oin finished the wrap on Sigrid's foot.

She pulled her boot back on and accepted the crutches again, standing a bit unsteadily until Fili placed a hand on her back to help her balance. “Of course Uncle,” he said.

“Lord Bard has already accepted an invitation for your party to join us for dinner this evening,” Thorin said, looking at Sigrid. “Until then, feel free to have Fili show you around. You should learn your way if you are to live here.” He turned to Fili. “On second thought, interrupt the council meeting and tell your mother first. The last thing we need is for her to find out from someone else.”

“Yes Uncle,” Fili said with a grin. “Lady Sigrid?” he asked, indicating the door.

“Kili, go with them.”

The younger prince looked up from where he was talking with Tauriel while staring into her eyes, a besotted smile on his face until the moment his uncle addressed him. He nodded, leaned in to kiss Tauriel, and then followed Fili and Sigrid as they walked out of the infirmary. Magnus stood to attention the moment they were out the door. Sigrid called him and he followed as they headed deeper into the mountain.

Sigrid eyed the stairs they’d led her to dubiously, trying to figure out how to climb them while on crutches. Fili paused after the first few steps up, looking back at her. “Right,” he said. “Kee, get her crutches.”

“Wait, what?” Sigrid asked as Fili came back over to her.

“Allow me,” he said and before she could protest, Kili took her crutches and Fili swept her up into his arms before heading up the stairs again.

“Put me down,” Sigrid ordered but didn’t squirm. She didn’t want to be unceremoniously dropped on the stairs after all. “This is most undignified.”

“But a lot faster,” Kili said.

“I should have Magnus tackle you,” she groused, looking over to the younger prince. He grinned at her and patted the dog’s head.

“Then you’d lose your crutches and Fili would have to carry you around for the rest of the day. Your choice.” 

Sigrid groaned and covered her eyes theatrically with one hand.

At the top of the stairs, Fili put Sigrid down and Kili handed her the crutches back before they started making their way along the hallways. As they moved, less and less dwarrow passed them until they passed into halls where guards were posted every once in a while. The crowds considerably thinned. Sigrid tried to remember the twists and turns but failed miserably. Fili and Kili pointed out marks on the walls on occasion but gave up after Sigrid told them she was already lost.

Finally, they reached a door with a pair of guards standing outside. “Please inform Princess Dis we require her immediate presence,” Fili ordered one of them. Sigrid glanced at him, unfamiliar with the tone of voice he used. The guard bowed and went into the room. Moments later, he returned with Dis.

“Fili?” Dis asked. “What is it?”

Fili motioned for his mother to follow him into the empty office across the hall. Kili and Sigrid followed after them, the former grinning and the latter starting to feel a bit sick to her stomach if she were to be honest.

“You missed a Challenge,” Fili told his mother once the door was closed.

“There have been so many I didn’t think you’d mind,” Dis said and leaned against the desk in the middle of the room. “You’ve turned down the few dwarrowdams that have made it past Thorin’s guards. Did something different happen with this one?”

Fili swallowed against the sudden nervousness climbing up his throat. “Lady Sigrid beat Dwalin and I accepted her Gift.”

Dis tilted her head, looking at her son, taking in the new coat. She reached out a hand to finger the garment, examining the embroidery and material. “It is a fine gift,” she said and turned to Sigrid. “You are very skilled.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Dis cast a half smile at her before turning back to her son. “So you are courting now. I don’t know whether I should be proud, appalled, or sad.”

“I had hoped you would be happy for me Amad.”

“Kili? Would you take Sigrid into the hall for a moment? I’d like a word alone with your brother.”

“Yes, Amad.” Kili motioned for Sigrid to follow him out the door.

Once they were alone, Fili looked at his mother, eyebrows raised.

“Are you sure about this Fili?” she asked. He opened his mouth but she held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t tell me how it’s a good match and will strengthen ties with Dale. I don’t care about the politics that come attached to the match. All I want to know is if you think you’ll be happy with a human for a wife.”

Fili leaned against the desk next to his mother. “I’m tired of it Amad,” he admitted. “Tired of the Challenges, of the shoddy gifts of nobledams that have never had to work a day in their lives, of the stress of wondering if I’ll even like the first one to make it through the initial Challenge and Gift. I don’t have to worry about any of that with Sigrid.”

“What of your One?”

“You know I’ve never had the Longing.”

“Fili-”

“I never have. I never will. I don’t have a One.” Fili rubbed a hand down his face. “Amad, I don’t want to be stuck with a stranger. Sigrid’s a good match for me. She’s kind, smart, strong, and a born leader. She already has good relations with our people that work in the markets at Dale. I’m sure I’ll be happier with her than with any others that have come to Challenge or any that will. I _like_ her.”

Dis sighed. “Does Sigrid feel the same way?”

“I wouldn’t have accepted the gift if she didn’t. This is what I want. What we want.”

“Mahal knows you’re old enough to make up your own mind,” Dis said with a sigh. “Good luck then, my little lion prince. I’ll not stand in your way. I wish you joy with her.”

“Thank you Amad,” Fili turned and pressed his forehead against his mothers, touched by her use of an endearment he hadn’t heard since he was a dwarfling. “May I come to you for advice if there’s something I don’t understand about her?”

Dis smiled. “I’m glad you feel you can. I’ll answer what I can, but remember we come from different cultures. You may try asking her or her little sister if it’s appropriate and I can’t answer.” Fili nodded. “Good. Let’s go back to your lady and you can tell me about your plans for braiding and beads.”

“Beads,” Fili said, his face losing color. “I forgot to finish preparing beads.”

Dis heaved a sigh. “You’ve been receiving Courtship Challenges without a set of beads prepared? Why am I not surprised?” She shook her head. “I swear if you didn’t have it screwed on, that rock head of yours would fall right off. Head to your workshop. Kili and I can entertain you intended for a while."

They went out into the hall where Kili and Sigrid stood chatting. Dis pulled Kili a few feet away and watched as her eldest talked to the human girl. After a moment, the girl laughed while Fili rubbed the back of his neck. Sigrid nodded to him with a smile and he took off down the hall at a jog, heading towards his workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress! There is progress! Please leave comments, kudos, and subscribe. I love you all! You're amazing.
> 
> If you have any prompts you want to be filled or you want me to explore something mentioned in this story further, let me know. A good prompt or two might help keep the ideas flowing freely. I admit, I got stuck writing earlier this week and only managed to get going again last night (after writing a good amount of a chapter in the morning and then realizing that it was all useless as it didn't fit with previous details so that got deleted). Don't worry, there won't be a delay in posting. I'm actually quite a few chapters ahead in rough draft.
> 
> Happy reading everyone!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hair is braided.
> 
> Kissing is discussed.
> 
> Bard grumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all wonderful and amazing! So much wonderful response. I'm glad that everyone (at least those that commented) seems to like BAMF Sigrid. This is a tame chapter. I hope you still enjoy it.

Chapter 8

“Can you explain what’s going to happen?” Sigrid asked that evening at dinner. Fili sat next to her, a small box tucked into the pocket of his new coat, holding a few beads that he’d just finished making earlier that afternoon. He’d started some months ago but couldn’t bring himself to finish them when he’d stood witness of the first Challenge. Creating impersonal beads for someone he didn’t know didn’t feel right. He’d spent the time in his workshop that afternoon carving the unfinished beads so they looked similar to the ones he already wore with the addition of a few runes.

“I’d like to know as well,” Bard said from Fili’s other side, his usual glower a little darker. “What all does braiding my daughter’s hair entail? Something significant with the way everyone has been behaving, I’ll wager.”

“Exactly what you would think,” Thorin said, sitting next to Bard at the head of the table. “Fili will braid Sigrid’s hair, putting beads in it as he does.” He touched the marriage braids in his own hair with a glance at his consort.

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Bilbo said, looking across the table at Bard. “At least, from what I understand. We sort of skipped that part, circumstances what they were.”

Dis covered her eyes with a hand. “Honestly, males,” she muttered and Tilda giggled from her seat next to the dwarrowdam. Louder, she said, “The braids will tell all those that know our ways that Sigrid is betrothed to the Crown Prince of Erebor. That it is recognized by their families and that she is not to be pursued by any other unless they wish to battle Fili and his kin for her hand.”

“That’s all? Why is everyone making a fuss?” Tilda asked.

“Tilda,” Sigrid reprimanded. “It’s part of their culture.”

“Our hair and beards,” Dis continued with a kind smile to the younger girl, “are very important to us. It’s rare for anyone besides family or one’s intended to handle it. When’s the last time someone besides Kili or yourself handled your hair?” she asked Fili.

“I don’t know. When’s the last time you or Uncle braided my hair? And Kee hasn’t done it in years.”

Dis smiled. “Decades then. So you see,” she looked back at Tilda, “to put your hands on someone else’s hair is a very serious matter for us.”

“Very intimate,” Kili agreed with a grin. He looked up at Tauriel, specifically at the braids in her hair, adorned with plain silver beads.

Bard continued to grumble but didn’t protest as Fili led Sigrid out of the large family dining room and into his private sitting room, leaving the door cracked slightly to appease Bard’s sensibilities but still allow them privacy.

“I’ll be right back,” Fili said. He ducked into his bedroom and headed to get his brush and comb as he shucked off the half gloves he wore. He found Sigrid crouched in front of the fireplace, adding another log, her crutches lying next to her. “Are you cold?”

“Just a little,” she said. “Do you mind?”

Fili shook his head. “Dwarrow are hardy. We handle cooler temperatures better than most and I don’t struggle with the heat, the time I spend in the forges and all. I’ll try to remember to keep things warmer whenever you’re here. The mountain does tend to be a bit cool according to Bilbo.” He grabbed the chair from his desk and set it in front of the fire where she could more thoroughly enjoy its warmth. He helped her limp the few steps back to it and then moved her crutches so they were out of the way.

Sigrid sat and turned slightly to look up at him. Whatever she’d been about to say died on her lips at the look on his face. “Your Highness? Are you all right?” she asked.

He swallowed thickly before answering. “As my mother said, I haven’t touched another’s hair in a few decades. I admit I’m nervous.”

“Then let me help you start,” she said, reaching for the bundle of hair at the back of her head. She started pulling plain, nondescript pins from the mass. After a moment, she felt Fili’s shaking fingers join hers, sorting through her hair to find the other pins until it all hung free down her back. “Did we get them all?” Sigrid asked.

Fili carefully ran his fingers through her hair, not wanting to pull on it if he did run into an errant pin still twisted in the strands. “I think so,” he said quietly and picked up the brush. He started at the ends of her hair, working his way towards the top of her head. He took his time, enjoying the feel of the work, the soft texture along his bare hands. Her hair was very different than his own, thicker, softer, and smoother. On occasion, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye at the door to the room. He would glance over and see Tilda or Bain or Kili peaking in at them or Bard or Bilbo walking past, trying to act as if they weren’t making sure he and Sigrid were doing as they were supposed to. On one such occasion, he heard his mother’s voice.

“Oh for Mahal’s sake, leave them be!”

Tilda’s giggle darted away from the open doorway.

He turned his attention back to Sigrid. At some point, she’d tilted her head back a bit so he could more easily brush the hair near her face. Her eyes were closed. “My Lady?” he asked softly, not wanting to disturb the reverence of the moment.

“Hmm?” she asked drowsily, not opening her eyes but a smile curling the corners of her lips.

“Are you still awake?” he asked, a small chuckle slipping into the words.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Yes. Just enjoying this. No one has brushed my hair like this for me since before my mother died.”

Fili nodded and went back to brushing. When her hair shone from the attention and had for some time, he set the brush aside and picked up the comb, carefully sectioning out some hair near her ear. He started the complicated twists and loops, his fingers starting to shake again as he worked the designs into her hair.

“Which braid are you doing?” Sigrid asked.

“My braid,” he said. “We start with the suitor’s braid, to display his dedication to his intended, that he will always be the first to defend his intended, to act as shield and sword. To provide for their needs and desires. To offer themselves, their whole selves, to their intended before expecting anything of them in return.” He spoke with the tone of one reciting lessons drilled into his head for years. He continued down the length of her hair, repeating the pattern until he reached the end of the strand. It took much longer with more repetitions than when he did his own hair. With one hand, he pulled out the box containing the beads and handed it to her.

Sigrid pulled out a bead, inspecting the gold. There were no jewels embedded in them as she’d seen on many dwarrow beads. These were plain but for the carvings in them. They matched the ones in Fili’s hair but on a smaller scale. She handed the bead to him.

“Until we are wed,” he said, again reciting, “our beads will remain without gems, only our attachment to each other will be told through the carvings on them. All finery and shine must come from our devotion to each other.” He sectioned out more hair above the braid he’d just done.

“At this point,” he said, combing through the strands, “I will put your braid in your hair. As you are not a dwarf, we must talk about what your braid will say about you.”

“What do you mean?”

Fili let go of her hair and set the comb aside. He stepped in front of her and showed her the braid he’d already completed. “This braid is mine,” he said. “Only I wear one like it. It tells of who I am and of my accomplishments,” he pointed to a set of tightly braided loops. “The shield braid, to show my prowess in battle in defending my uncle, brother, and brothers in arms.” He pointed to a set of sharp angles. “The Durin braid, to show I am a descendant of Durin the Deathless and the Crown Prince of Erebor.” He pointed to a small set of loops. “Master jewelers braid, to show my mastery in my craft.”

“You’re a jeweler?”

“Have I not told you that?”

“No, you haven’t. Did you make that lovely necklace you gave me at midwinter?”

He smiled. “I did.”

Sigrid ducked her head to hide her grin, suddenly feeling very grateful and a bit shy of the attention he’d paid her.

Fili continued down the braid, naming the twists and knots placed there until the pattern repeated itself after eight inches. “Double sword braid, ax throwing, older brother, son, male head of household,” and on the list went for a few moments. When he finished, he went over to his desk and retrieved parchment, ink, and quill. “Now that you have an idea of what goes into a braid, we will need to decide what goes into yours.”

“There’s so much in yours. I’m afraid mine will pale in comparison,” Sigrid said.

“You were raised in a different lifestyle. There’s no shame in that. We’ll start with the obvious,” Fili said, dipping the quill in the ink. He wrote as he spoke. “Daughter, oldest child, sister, embroiderer, sword fighter, noble Lady, fighter, Wolf’s Bane.”

“You’re not going to include that, are you?” she asked with a groan.

“What? Wolf’s Bane?”

She nodded. 

“Of course I am, or rather it will be Wolf Slayer. It translates better into the braids,” he said. “It’s part of your title, who you are. Why wouldn’t I?”

Sigrid rubbed a hand across her forehead. “I wish people would let that go though,” she said. “It’s not like I did anything amazing. I just killed two wolves so I could survive and it was only the one time. I’m not going to go out hunting wolves.”

Fili smiled at her. “Your people have had little to celebrate and to be proud of for a long time. To be able to claim their Lady is a protector of their people, a killer of wolves, that is a wonderful thing for them. Will you deny them of that pride?”

She thought for a moment then sighed. “I suppose not.”

“Good,” Fili said. “What else do you know how to do? What other things have you accomplished in your life? Where do your interests lie?”

They spent a good while working on the list, adding thoughts and taking others away until Fili finally declared it a pretty good representation. He set the list where he could see it and sectioned out her hair again before starting in on the braiding again.

“Will I need to learn these?” Sigrid asked.

“Eventually, yes, I’ll teach them to you. You’ll need to know them before we marry, as well as others.”

Fighting off the urge to groan – she’d seen the complicated braid he’d put in her hair already – she asked, “So my braid is second.”

“Yes. We braid the intended’s braid next to the suitors, to show we will stand together and face all opposition side by side. That we will value each other equally. The intended’s braid is done second so that they may direct the suitor in their desires. To be the first to take up the suitor’s sword and shield should they fall, to defend them in their time of need.” He worked his way down her hair slowly, glancing at the parchment on occasion to make sure he was remembering the entire list. The pattern ended up shorter than his, only about five inches long. He’d keep the list on hand, practice the braid on his own hair until he had it memorized. Then he’d teach it to Sigrid until she could braid her hair herself. When he finished the braid, he motioned her to give him another bead. He secured the braid.

“The last braid,” he said and picked up the first braid he’d put in her hair, “combines the two.” He started twisting them together in a complicated series of loops. “This is the betrothal braid. Many refer to it as the Love Knot Braid. Once finished, it will appear to have no beginning or end, signifying our devotion to each other and our unwillingness to be separated from this time forth.” His hands were steadier now as he worked in the familiar pattern. He’d never done the braid on another person before but he’d been made to memorize it so many years ago along with so many others. The familiar work steadied his nerves and finally, he motioned for the final clasp in the box, larger than the two beads he’d already placed in her hair. He clipped it into place, connecting the two beads to it and hiding the remaining ends of her hair inside it.

The end result was a thick, short rope of loops and turns down the side of her head near her ear, the clasp resting just past her shoulder. The rest of her hair continued down to the small of her back and Fili found himself wanting to continue brushing it. It was a treat to feel someone else’s hair in his hands. Instead, he stepped away from her and came to stand in front of her. “All finished,” he said, tugging on the braid.

“It feels heavy,” she said, reaching a hand up to finger the loops and twists, trying to figure them out by touch. “We need to put it in your hair, too, right?” she asked.

Fili nodded. “I’ll show you how to do it on this side,” he said, touching his head on his right side, “and you can copy it on the left.” He reached for the beads in his hair and started tugging them free.

“May I?” Sigrid asked, standing and then resting her knee of her injured foot on the chair she’d just been sitting in, keeping her weight off it.

Belatedly, Fili realized that this would be the norm for them someday. His hesitance to let her touch his hair stemmed from years and years of habit and he’d just immediately fallen into the habit of caring for it himself. Taking a deep breath and steeling himself, he nodded.

The first touch of her hands in his hair didn’t startle him as she pulled a bead from his hair and started carefully working the braiding apart. He stiffened at the tugs in his hair, holding his breath. After so long of only him going near his hair, it was a very strange and intimate feeling. He took a moment to remind himself that this was Sigrid, his friend and soon enough his wife. He trusted her. He did. He would get used to her doing this for him. He released the breath as she finished releasing the first braid in his hair and started the next.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Sigrid asked quietly once his hair was entirely loose. Fili moved to the chair she’d vacated but she shook her head. Instead, she motioned towards his armchair. He sat, and she, limping, pulled up the little footstool he never used and sat in front of him as she took up his brush and started working it through his hair. She took the same care for him as he’d taken for her, carefully brushing until his hair shone in the firelight. Finally, she set the brush aside and handed him the comb. “Show me, please,” she said.

So he did. He sectioned hair apart and waited for her to do the same. They worked their way through the braids. Part way through, Sigrid laughed a little. “You may want to redo these later,” she admitted, struggling with the complicated pattern for his mastery. Fili waited patiently for her to figure it out, showing her the pattern again. At the end of the first braid, Fili reached into another pocket and pulled out an old box.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, “but I have beads already.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Sigrid said. “I don’t know how to make them.”

Fili opened the box and gazed at them for a moment. “These were my father’s,” he said softly. “Mother asked if I would wear them if you didn’t mind. She made them for him when they started courting.” He pulled a bead out and handed it to Sigrid. She threaded his hair through it, showing great care for the object as she did. They worked through her braid and finally the betrothal braid. Finally, they finished and Fili set aside the box. He took Sigrid’s hands before she could rise.

“I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to,” he said, “but I ask that you honor my people’s traditions. Please leave the braid in unless you want to call off our courtship.”

“I will,” she said. “What if it becomes messy, as I’m sure it will over time?”

“Come to me until you learn the braids perfectly. I’ll remake them any time you need me to.”

Sigrid smiled at him. “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” Fili stood, pulling her to her feet and moving so she could support her leg on the chair she’d sat in again. “There is one other thing before we rejoin our families,” he said. Sigrid nodded for him to go on. “Again, we will only do this if you want.”

“Go on.”

He took a deep breath. “I know men don’t show physical affection until well into their courtship or even until they are married.”

“We’re not supposed to,” Sigrid agreed.

Fili nodded. “Dwarrow are more… open,” he admitted. “It is traditional that when a couple finishes braiding each other’s hair for the first time, they share a kiss.”

“Oh.” Sigrid blinked a few times, standing a little straighter on her good leg. She stared down at Fili and his mouth went dry.

“Only if you want to,” he reminded her. “Our courtship is bound to be different, considering the circumstances.”

She nodded her understanding. “Yes, of course.” She let out a nervous breath and Fili watched as color flooded her cheeks. “How open are dwarrow with touching?” she asked.

“Embracing and chaste kisses are considered perfectly normal parts of courting, even in public. Expected in some cases, as I’m afraid ours may be.”

The very idea had Sigrid covering her blazing cheeks with her hands. She shifted them to cover the rest of her face after a moment as she thought. “We’re going to be expected to kiss each other in front of people?” she asked, voice muffled by her hands but somehow still sounding absolutely mortified.

“While we’re around my people, yes.”

She laughed nervously. “This feels awkward,” she admitted, dropping her hands. “You’re my best friend.”

Fili’s grin was accompanied by a few chuckles. “It does feel rather strange to even be talking about kissing you,” he said. “I never thought I’d even be suggesting it.”

“Yet, here we are,” Sigrid laughed. “And to think, a little under two years ago you were climbing into my little home through my toilet and tackling orcs out my front door.”

“Here we are,” Fili said with half of a smile. He reached out and took her hand carefully in his own. “It’s your choice, My Lady. I’ll not make you change your ideals to account for my traditions or my peoples’ expectations.”

Sigrid looked down at where his fingers curled around hers. “I know we’ll have to get used to it eventually,” she said, “but can we put it off, just a bit longer?”

Fili sighed in relief. “Absolutely. I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to, but we can put it off for as long as possible.”

“That’s a relief.”

They shared a smile before Fili indicated the doorway. “Shall we rejoin the others?” he asked and Sigrid nodded. He retrieved her crutches for her and waited for her to settle on them.

“It’s so pretty!” Tilda exclaimed when she saw the braids and beads. “Does it mean something special besides that you’re courting?”

“It does,” Fili said, absently working one of the braids on the right side of his head back in with swift motions, “but she can’t tell you. It’s a dwarf thing.”

“But she’s not a dwarf,” Tilda said.

“She might as well be,” Kili said. “She’s marrying one.”

“That’s not decided yet,” Thorin and Bard chorused and then directed mutual glowers at each other.

“Leave your overly long nose out of it, Brother,” Dis ordered the king. “I’ll be handling the negotiations for my son.”

“He’s my heir.”

“He’s my son. I have rights over you.” They fell to bickering back and forth over who’s position in relation to Fili’s awarded them the opportunity to argue with Bard over the matters around the marriage. 

The dwarf in question just sighed and looked at his younger brother. “Was it this bad when they worked on the negotiations for your wedding?” he asked.

“Haven’t even started,” Kili said. “You have to marry first, remember?”

Fili winced. “Sorry, Kee. I’m working on it.” Kili grinned in response.

Bard spied Tilda trying to hide a yawn. “I think we should retire for the night,” he said. He and his family said their goodbyes as they headed toward the door. Fili offered to show them to their quarters.

“Keep it short,” Thorin called after Fili. “Kili, go with them.”

“Her family’s going to be right there, Uncle,” Fili said. “Kee can stay here.” He left the room before Thorin could argue. He led the way after Sigrid called for Magnus to follow them. Their rooms weren’t far from the royal quarters. After opening the door to the common room for them, he looked up at Sigrid as her family filed past.

“What did His Majesty mean about keeping something short?”

“He expects us to kiss,” Fili said with a chuckle, giving her hand a small pat. “Goodnight My Lady”

“Goodnight,” she said and went in the door.

“What was that about?” he heard Bard growl as he retreated back to his own rooms, a grin stretching across his face. He may not love Sigrid romantically, but he could see something that would be entertaining once he finally had to kiss her. Bard’s reaction promised to be very amusing.

~*~*~

“Oh calm down Da,” Sigrid said as Bard glared at her. “I knew it was a mistake to tell you.”

“My own daughter,” he growled. “I thought you said he was perfectly honorable and now I find out he’s to be stealing kisses.”

“It’s a dwarf thing,” Sigrid said, running her brush through her hair unnecessarily. It was still soft and shining after the care Fili had given it but the routine helped settle her mind for bed. “And it’s not like you and Mum never got up to even worse before you were married.”

“And how would you know anything about that?” Bard growled.

Sigrid rolled her eyes. “I can do the math Da. I know when you and Mum were married. I know my own age. It’s only seven months’ difference.”

Bard’s jaw clenched against the tirade ready to spill from his mouth.

“It's only kissing Da,” she told him, “and it’s normal in dwarf culture, as I said.”

“I didn’t think you cared for him romantically,” Bard said.

“I don’t,” Sigrid admitted, “but we’ll have to be used to it. Once we’re married, more will be expected of us.” The thought struck her even as she said the words and her face paled a bit. She swallowed against the nerves.

“You don’t have to do this My Girl,” Bard reminded her.

She shook her head. “I’ll work it out with him,” she said. “We’ll talk it through long before the wedding.”

“It’ll just be kisses?” Bard clarified. “You’re not expected to be any more… ah… physical?”

“No Da.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Give your old man a breather,” he said. “I’ve always dreaded the day you met someone you like and here you are to be kissing someone you don’t even love.”

“It's just kissing Da. Nothing world changing.”

“It’s changing my world,” Bard grumbled.

“Goodnight Da!” Tilda said, coming into the common room in her nightdress.

“Tilda, my little darling, please don’t grow up,” he begged, grabbing his youngest child and lifting her onto his lap for a hug and a whiskery kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll try not to,” she said. “Being an adult doesn’t sound any fun.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “It’s all meetings and courting and chores. No fun at all.”

Sigrid laughed as Bard hugged his daughter tighter still, making her squeak in protest. Tilda jumped down from his lap and scampered off to her own bed, delighted that it was low enough to the ground that she could easily climb in, even if it was large enough to fit her entire family with room to spare.

“I’m off to bed too,” Sigrid said, grabbing her crutches from where they leaned against her chair. She kissed her father’s cheek before hobbling for her own room. She’d had a glimpse of the opulent space before dinner but took a better look at it now. The bed was the same size as Tilda’s, the blankets a fine weave in a lovely sage green with golden threads stitched in. Hangings hung around all sides if she desired the privacy, also in the lovely green and stitched finely with gold. There was a desk stained a rich deep brown with matching chair, chest, and wardrobe. All were carved expertly with the geometric patterns dwarrow seemed to favor. Rugs and furs covered the floor to keep her bare feet warm even as a fire crackled merrily in the hearth.

Sigrid dressed for bed and climbed under the blankets, thankful for the weight of them in the chill room. Even though the world was heating up in late spring, the interior of the mountain still remained cool.

Once settled beneath the blankets with Magnus laying on the rugs in front of the fire and a small pile of pillows underneath her injured ankle, Sigrid blew out her candle and lay back on the goose down pillows to stare at the material draped over her bed, the metallic threads glimmering in the firelight like so many stars.

Before Smaug destroyed Laketown and she became the Lady of Dale, Sigrid had thought of kissing very little, not having time to consider courting with two younger siblings that needed minding while her father was out working. When suitors started to arrive, she had dreaded the action, fighting off those that couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Fili, on the other hand, had given her the chance to refuse and had not pressed when she had requested more time.

Still, he was her friend and the awkward air around the entire affair niggled at her mind. She could enjoy it, she told herself. There was no reason that a simple kiss couldn’t be enjoyed between two friends. Her stomach did a small, not exactly pleasant but not unpleasant, flip. Would it feel the same way when they kissed for the first time? How often were they expected to? She sighed and burrowed deeper under her blankets. She would worry about it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to all those that leave kudos and comments. I appreciate all of it! Have a great week!
> 
> Happy reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori breaks into places he's not supposed to be.
> 
> Bard doesn't sleep well.
> 
> Fili hates gossiping old biddies.
> 
> Confessions are made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're all wonderful! Thank you for your comments, kudos, and subscriptions. Please keep them coming. I love hearing from you!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 9

“So how was your first kiss with your intended?”

Fili spun, drawing his swords at the same time and leveling them at the speaker. Dis smiled back at him. “Amad!”

Her smile grew. “Apparently it was good enough to have you so distracted.”

“We didn’t kiss,” he said, sheathing his blades before taking the scabbards off and setting them on the table. He started pulling knives out of their respective hiding places on his person.

Dis’s smile dropped from her lips. “You didn’t?”

Fili shook his head. “No, Amad. We didn’t. Humans aren’t as open with physical displays of affection as dwarrow.”

“You were alone. There was no one to see you.”

“That’s not the point. I’m not going to ask her to do something she’s not comfortable with.” He sat in the other chair stationed before the fireplace in his rooms once he was mostly unarmed. He kept the knives in his boot sheathes as well as the throwing axes he kept there, mostly out of laziness.

His mother frowned outright at this point. “You are courting the girl. You’ll have to be physically affectionate. I’d think you would want to be.”

“Around our people, yes, I am aware we’ll need to be, but not until she’s ready for that.”

The frown gave a subtle shift from displeasure to sadness. “You should have kissed her while you were alone,” she said. “You won’t have much of a choice in the morning.”

He looked at her sharply. “If her choice is not to then I will respect it.”

“You’ll have to make a very good excuse or the guards will have the word out that she’s not your One by the day’s end.”

“It doesn’t matter that she’s not my One,” Fili retorted. “I don’t have a One. I don’t have the Longing. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s not quite accurate lad.”

Fili reached reflexively for a boot knife.

“Put it away lad. You’d never beat me in a knife fight.”

He shoved the knife back where it belonged and glared at Nori. “I can understand my own mother breaking into my rooms, but must you do it as well? This is ridiculous.”

“Spymaster. My job’s to get into places I’m not supposed to,” Nori said with a shrug. “As for you kissin’ your lass, your ma’s right. You should’ve straightened out your technique in private. You’ll have to kiss in front of the guards in the morning when you send her back to Dale.”

“Why would I have to? To satisfy the guards’ gossip-mongering?”

“It’s more than that,” Dis said.

Nori nodded. “The people know she won the challenge and you accepted her gift.”

“So?”

“She’s not a dwarf,” Dis said, exasperated.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“To you, to your family, to the Company, to the official law, and to some of our people it don’t,” Nori said, “but to the rest, well,” he shrugged. “For you to pick a human over a dwarf willingly without her being your One is going to cause some problems. There’s speculation that it is a marriage of state-”

“This is ridiculous,” Fili groused in order to fend off the guilt. He really should just tell his mother the truth, and Nori as well. The spy would figure it out sooner or later most likely.

“We know,” Dis said. “You love her and that is all that should matter.”

Nori glared at them both before continuing. “If the people think you don’t love her, they won’t accept her as your wife. They won’t recognize her as Queen when you take the throne. Depending on public opinion of the crown at the time of your marriage, they could riot. They only want a dwarf to be chosen if there is a choice to be made. If you truly love her, only a few will argue. It’d be better if she were your One.”

Fili scrubbed his hands into his hair with a groan. “Why can’t they mind their own business about it?”

“It’s the price we pay as the royal family,” Dis said. “Look at your brother. He has his One and most hate her on sight, disbelieving that they could be two parts of one soul, all because she’s an elf. The people will be more accepting of Lady Sigrid, but only if they think she’s your One or that you love her more than any other.”

“My marrying her isn’t proof enough?” Fili rubbed his face and then looked over at his mother and then at Nori. “I’ll talk to her about it in the morning. Hopefully, I’ll get a chance before they’re set to leave. If not, I’ll tell her then. If she doesn’t agree, I’ll not force her. I’ll think of an excuse.”

“It better be a good one,” Nori said. “Otherwise, prepare to be all lovey-dovey with your lass.”

“Somehow I get the feeling you won’t mind,” Dis said.

Fili sighed and fell back into his chair, staring at the fire morosely.

~*~*~

Sigrid woke confused as to where she was. It took time for her to remember she was in the mountain after winning the right to court the crown prince the day before. It wasn’t until her ankle gave a particularly painful throb that she remembered that particular event. With the pain came the memories and her hand went to her hair, feeling the braids. 

She climbed out of bed, wondering what the time was as she headed for the bathing room connected to her room. She took the time to marvel at the hot and cold taps to the large tub as it filled before taking a bath, letting the heat seep into her now purple, blue, black, yellow, and green ankle and foot. She admired the coloring for a time, unable to remember such a spectacular bruise on her person before.

She washed, careful not to muss her braided hair too much before awkwardly climbing out and hobbling through the rest of her morning ablutions. When she entered the common room set aside for her family with Magnus at her side, she found her father sitting in the same chair next to the fire he’d been in the night before.

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked and worked her way over to him on her crutches.

“Not much,” Bard admitted and rubbed at his aching eyes. He patted the large dog absently when he placed his large head on the man’s leg in concern.

Sigrid didn’t try to reassure him of her choice again. He would grow to accept it on his own. She would just work hard to convince him that her choice truly was what she wanted.

“What time is it?” she asked instead. “I can’t tell in this mountain.”

Bard looked to a candle burning above the fireplace. “I’d say a bit after dawn.” He climbed to his feet. “Better get Til and Bain up,” he groaned and headed towards the bedrooms, leaving Sigrid by the fire.

They joined the royal family for breakfast after Kili came to bring them to the main dining hall in the mountain. It wasn’t long after that Sigrid and her family were heading back out of the mountain. Fili, Kili, and Dis showed them out. As Bard spoke with Dis, Fili drew Sigrid away from prying ears.

“I’m really sorry about this but we can’t put a kiss off any longer.”

“What? Why?” She asked, rocking forward a bit on her crutches, leaning towards him and keeping her voice low.

Fili glanced towards their families. “It’s the guards,” he said. “I talked to my mother last night after I left you and, well, Dwalin will never admit it, but the King’s Guards are hopeless gossips. If they don’t see us kiss when you leave, there will be talk.” He deliberately didn’t mention Nori. He’d have to talk to Thorin about letting Sigrid know the dwarf’s official position.

“Our marriage will be one of state,” Sigrid protested. “Surely they understand that this is all for convenience for both our people?”

“Everyone, including my mother, thinks we’re absolutely in love with each other,” he said. “As far as anyone in the mountain is concerned, and I’m assuming Dale as well, the rumors of our secret courtship are true, that you coming here to Challenge was just confirmation of that. I assume everyone thinks we didn’t want to sneak around anymore and so decided to make it official. That you made the Challenge to honor our traditions. I don’t know about your people, but mine is a jealous and secret kind. If I try to marry anyone out of my own race without my spouse being my One or deeply in love, there will be uproar. We must seem like a besotted couple.”

“You mean it wouldn’t matter if I was a dwarf?”

“Not in the slightest. Marriages of state amongst my own kind are common but never interracial.”

“And we can’t put it off claiming human traditions and modesty as a reason?”

Fili’s mouth was set in a grim line. “I’m afraid not.” He glanced over his shoulder again and caught his mother’s eye. She gave him an encouraging nod and a somewhat expectant look. He sighed. “It’s time for you to go,” he said. “If you truly are averse to it, I’ll make an excuse as to why we didn’t.”

Sigrid swallowed. “I wish we’d done this last night without onlookers. Nothing for it now. We’ll need to do this eventually. Might as well start with the guards so the entire mountain can know of our courtship as soon as possible.”

“Bunch of gossiping old biddies,” Fili grumbled but a smile tugged at his lips. “Ready?” he asked.

“I suppose,” Sigrid said

“I’m going to put my hand on the side of your head and the other on your hip,” he warned. “You?”

“Umm…” She glanced down his form briefly, unsure.

Fili saved her from her uncertainty after a moment. “Put them on my neck, near my ears if you can balance,” he instructed. “If you want to hide them under my hair, that would do as well. I’ll help steady you so you don’t fall.”

Sigrid nodded. “This is still so very awkward.”

“I’m aware,” Fili said with a laugh. “Well, here we go.” He stepped forward and placed his hands as he’d warned. In turn, Sigrid let go of her crutches, leaving them wedged under her arms and rested her shaking fingers on the sides of his neck, digging them into his hair to help hide the tremors and her thumbs rested against his bearded cheeks near his hairline. Keeping a careful grip on her hip to help her with her balance, Fili gently pulled her down until he could stand on the tips of his toes to kiss her.

Sigrid’s stomach tumbled, flipped, and surged oddly when Fili’s dry and somewhat chapped lips pressed to hers, his mustache and beard scraping gently across her skin. The strange sensation continued not unpleasantly, and when Fili shifted his grip so that his thumb brushed under her jawline the feeling doubled. A small tremor shivered beneath her skin down to her breasts and she felt the skin over them tighten pleasantly. She dug her fingers unconsciously deeper into Fili’s hair, giving a little tug at the unfamiliar sensation.

Fili dropped to his heels immediately ending the kiss but left his hands where they were. Sigrid blinked her eyes open, feeling heat flare across her cheeks. “I think we need to talk about what just happened,” she whispered.

“Yes My Lady,” Fili said, his usual smile finding its way onto his lips. At least he didn’t seem to be bothered by what they’d just done. If he could pretend that all was normal, so could Sigrid. “I’ll be heading to Dale tomorrow once my duties here are done.”

“As the picture of a truly infatuated suitor unable to stay away from his lady love would,” Sigrid tried to disguise her snicker as a giggle with moderate results.

Fili surged upward again, resting his forehead against hers as he laughed as well. “This is going to be fun,” he said. “Mind if I let Kili in on it? Where he’s actually found his One, he may be able to help us keep up appearances.”

“Be my guest,” she said and straightened as best she could, still leaning on her crutches. She pulled her fingers from his hair, her fingers trailing along his beard before taking up her crutches again and she rejoined her family. She shoved a discreet elbow into her glaring father’s ribs and murmured “seven months” to him, completely wiping the irritation off his face.

“Let’s be off,” Bard said to the group and went to the driver’s seat of their cart.

Fili came over to Sigrid. “Let me help you,” he said when she hesitated by the cart and picked her up as if she weighed nothing more than the gloves on his hands. He stretched to his full height and placed her on her seat next to her father as Bain, Tilda, and Magnus climbed into the back with the goods they would bring back to Dale. Kili handed up her crutches. When she bent to take them from him, Fili ducked into her reach, mouthed “sorry” at her, and pulled her a little further down by her neck to kiss her. He released her quickly, let Kili pass up the crutches, and went to stand next to his mother, waving at the small convoy leaving the mountain.

“Please tell me that was a dwarf thing and I won’t have to watch you swapping spit with anyone any time in Dale,” Bain groused.

Sigrid reached behind her and smacked the back of his head without looking at him. “It’s part of their culture,” she snapped when her hand made contact.

“How was it?”

“Tilda!”

“What? I’m just curious.”

Sigrid turned her face away from her younger sister. “I’m not answering that.”

“Good,” Bard and Bain chorused and Tilda giggled. Magnus panted happily, surrounded by his favorite humans.

~*~*~

True to his word, Fili arrived at her house a bit after lunch the next day. A maid showed him to the sitting room where Sigrid worked, her injured foot propped up on a couple of pillows piled on top of a footstool. She sat with an embroidery hoop, stitching what looked like the beginnings of a bird on a square of cloth.

“Your Highness!” she greeted happily. “I apologize for not getting up, but,” she waved a hand at her leg.

“That’s all right,” he said and took the seat she indicated. “How is your ankle?”

“A healer came and went this morning. Just as Master Oin said, I’ll have to stay off of it for a while.”

“I hope you recover quickly.”

“Thank you.”

“You said you wanted to talk yesterday?” He leaned forward, clasping his hands loosely between his knees.

He watched as color flooded Sigrid’s cheeks. “Ah… yes,” she said and kept her eyes on her work. “Did- did-” she clenched her jaw together and completed a few stitches before trying again. “Did your stomach do an odd tumbling, twisting thing?” 

Fili sighed in relief. “I’m not the only one then. Strange wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sigrid said, glancing up at him for the first time since he’d taken a seat.

“In the few people I’ve kissed, I’ve never felt that before. Have you?”

The color in Sigrid’s cheeks spread up to her ears and she dropped her eyes to her work again. She shook her head.

“Wait,” Fili said, scrutinizing her. “Was that your first kiss?”

She flinched. He sat up straight in his chair and blinked at her. 

“Now I feel absolutely rotten,” he admitted when the silence stretched too long.

“What? Why?” Sigrid finally managed to tear her eyes away from her work, a somewhat baffled look on her face.

“Aren’t first kisses important to your kind for some reason? I’ve heard girls sighing and pining over them.”

Sigrid shrugged. The color drained from her ears but her cheeks remained pinked. “There’s no great matter to be taken from a first kiss. Some girls are just eager to receive theirs and put far too much meaning in them.”

“Yet you’ve never kissed anyone.”

“I never had time for kissing. Before Smaug, I was too busy taking care of Da, Bain, Tilda, and our home to even think about it, and now that I’m the Lady of Dale there are expectations of how I should act and kissing every suitor that comes to call isn’t smiled upon. Not that any of my suitors were ever worth kissing.”

“I seem to remember a few that were eager to kiss you. You didn’t feel the need to oblige them?”

Sigrid gave a rather unladylike snort. “Not in the least. You know that.” She dropped her eyes back to her work again and an awkward silence filled the room.

“Wasn’t an unpleasant feeling though,” Fili admitted quietly after a while and watched as Sigrid ducked her head, further hiding her face. She nodded all the same and her hand went to rub absently at her chest just below her throat. “My Lady?”

She seemed to war with herself, her throat working to swallow before she spoke again. “Would it upset you if I talked to someone about all this? Another girl? Say, Tauriel maybe?”

Fili blinked. “You can always talk to me if you want,” he said but frowned when she shook her head.

“Please don’t take any offense but I’d really rather not talk to you about certain things, at least not until I understand them better.” She looked up at him pleadingly.

“I don’t mind,” he told her with a small smile. “Why would I?”

“Some men get upset if their partners talk about their physical relationship with other people. They can be very private or controlling about that kind of thing. Most girls, if they have questions, ask their mothers but, well…”

“Talk to whomever you please,” Fili said. “I’ll admit I’ll probably go to Thorin or Kili if I’m unsure of something about our relationship, but then, dwarrow are more open apparently.”

Sigrid’s ears burned anew but she nodded her understanding. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Fili quirked a smile at her. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” 

She shook her head. “I am curious though. What happens next in our courtship? Are you allowed to tell me now?”

“Yes, I can tell you. Negotiations and gifts are next, and, honestly, you don’t really have to worry about any of it unless you want something particular put in the wedding and marriage contracts.”

“There’s a difference between them?”

“The wedding contract will detail the wedding itself. Things like will it be held here or in Erebor, what foods will be served, will we follow dwarrow customs or human or a mix, that sort of thing. The marriage is for things like how long we’re expected to try for children, which kingdom they’ll be heir to, where we’ll live, expectations of your treatment, which holidays we observe, and so on.”

Sigrid set her embroidery hoop aside. “I’m going to want to be there or Da is going to make a mess of things.”

“If that’s what you want, but it will be dwarrow style negotiations. There will be a lot of yelling, a bit of threatening, and if people really want the match to happen, a drawn ax or two.”

“Is that all?” Sigrid asked. “I’ll make sure Da brings his bow and I’ll have my sword.”

“Close range and projectile. Good choices. Watch out for my mum’s ax. I’m sure she’ll have it freshly sharpened before negotiations start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to have lived up to your expectations for their first kiss. Please leave comments with your thoughts. I'd really appreciate feedback for this chapter.
> 
> Until next week.
> 
> Happy reading.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili throws knives and teaches Sigrid.
> 
> Sigrid gets another present.
> 
> Bard and Thorin get usurped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all amazing! In honor of my 200th kudos, I'm posting early! I can't thank you all enough for your support. It makes me want to be a better writer and helps motivate me to work. Thank you so much! Your enthusiasm humbles me, especially those of you that have left comments and come back for multiple chapters. I will strive to continue to put out quality work for you all to enjoy!
> 
> Negotiations in this chapter. Hang in there, the fluff is on its way (more so in the next chapter which I will post on Friday most likely).
> 
> Edit 10/2/2018: Spelling mistake was pointed out and corrected.

Chapter 10

They spent the afternoon talking, starting with what behaviors would be expected of them by their respective peoples and trying to decide on compromises for those that opposed each other, such as public displays of affection. From there, the conversation shifted easily, spanning across the political state of the respective cities to their childhoods and everything in between. Before long, the conversation circled back to their courtship.

“If you’ll be here almost daily, we’re going to need to find something to do besides wandering the city,” Sigrid said.

“I had a thought about that. How would you feel about going to the Guard Post? I can help expand your swordsmanship lessons into a more dwarvish style? I can also teach you how to use other weapons as well if you’d like.”

Sigrid’s face lit up. “Can you teach me to throw knives?” she asked eagerly, leaning toward him with her hands gripping her skirts tightly.

He laughed. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”

She reached out and took his hand, her smile stretching wider if possible. “Thank you Fili!” she cried delightedly and then froze. She slapped a hand across her mouth. “Your Highness, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to presume to-”

He laughed again at her fumbling and distress. “It’s all right, Considering the circumstances, it’s probably best if you use my name.”

She relaxed, letting her hand drop back to her lap. “Then you should use mine as well,” she said and there was a note of relief in her voice. “Truth be told; I hate my title.”

Fili’s smile was bittersweet. “It’ll change soon,” he reminded her. She made a face. “I’ll still call you Sigrid, even then,” he promised.

~*~*~

It took a full week before Sigrid was able to leave the crutches behind and walk short distances. In that time, Fili’s daily visits consisted of conversation or both of them working on projects and occasionally braiding her hair as he taught her the patterns until she knew them by heart and could do the braid herself. He often brought a sketchbook that contained designs for different projects and he would add more designs or calculate the quantities of materials needed. While he did that, Sigrid would embroider various projects, read, or attend to some of her father’s paperwork. The silences during their work were easy, companionable, and often broken by a stray thought voiced by either.

Once she was able to walk again, they took to exploring Dale. Sigrid showed Fili the repairs still being made around the city. There was still a lot to do, even two years after they’d taken up residence in the ruined city, but all families had homes that were secure against the elements and most buildings for daily use were secure as well. Mostly all that was left was spare homes and locations that saw little to no use. Finer materials were finally making their way into the markets for those that wanted to update their homes or shops and could afford it. They explored the markets and visited the Guard Post to talk to Captain Smytheson about furthering Sigrid’s training.

As they walked, citizens would bring minor concerns to Sigrid. Fili waited patiently off to the side, interested in her methods. He found himself impressed at her skill in solving disputes and finding solutions to the problems brought to her attention. For someone who had been given a title so recently, she’d sure taken to her role quickly and with ease. Would she be so effective with his people?

If other dwarrow were near and the moment seemed to call for it, he would press a kiss to her cheek or she would to his. She often had her arm looped through his and they walked close together, appeasing the dwarf mentality that public physical affection was perfectly acceptable within certain parameters but still being fairly conservative to satisfy her people. They never found the need to show further affection and the rumors of their secret courtship continued to circulate, now accompanied by the joy that their relationship was being publicly acknowledged at last.

On her third day off the crutches, when her balance was better and she could stand without keeping all her weight on one foot, they walked to the Guard Post, Sigrid’s arm wrapped around Fili’s as usual, though now she placed her other hand there as well and Fili often let his fingers trail across hers. The stance had felt awkward at first for both of them. Sigrid shied away from open displays of affection and Fili held back on the dwarfish inclination to keep an arm wrapped around her waist at all times, settling for the smaller touches to hands and arms that were a sort of middle ground for a newly courting couple.

Now inside the Post’s walls and standing near the archery targets, Fili pulled two knives from his sleeves and handed one of them hilt first to Sigrid. “You wanted to learn to throw knives,” he reminded her.

Her smile stretched across her face widely. “Yes! Please!”

He flipped the knife he still had into the air and caught it by the end of the hilt before turning his body and flinging the knife. It hit the target in the center. Sigrid cheered and he laughed. “The targets not even moving,” he told her.

“I know but that’s still very impressive.”

“Thank you. It’s your turn now.” He turned to her. “You’re right-handed, yes? Good. Hold it like this, bring your arm up to throw, and release at this point,” he ordered, walking her through the steps, his grip gentle on her arm and hand. He reached out and placed a hand against her hip and she froze, her eyes tracking to his fingers now pressing into the cloth of her shirt. “It’s all right,” he murmured. “I won’t do anything else but some of the dwarrow guardsmen are watching.”

Sigrid nodded her understanding and focused on the target as he pressed against her hip, telling her how to shift her body to put more power behind the throw. “Give it a try,” he said, stepping back once he walked her through the basics. Sigrid mimed a few practice swings, not releasing the slim knife in her hand, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated.

She threw the knife. Fili gaped and went to check on what he thought he was seeing. She’d hit the target, just to the left of his knife but still in the center circle. “Well done!” he cheered. “I’m impressed!”

“Beginner’s luck,” Sigrid said, folding her hands demurely in front of her as he pulled the two blades from the target and returned to her.

“We’ll see about that. Maybe you just have good aim.” He handed her a knife and watched as she threw it again. She still hit in the center circle. He nudged her back a bit with an arm around her waist and handed her the other knife. She hit the ring closest to the center circle. “Natural talent,” Fili claimed, looking up at her elated expression, pride in his eyes.

“Thank you for teaching me this Fili,” she said, taking his hand.

“Anything for you Sigrid,” he said and gave her hand a tug. Getting the hint, she bent so he could press a quick kiss to her cheek. “Now, would you like to learn to throw it without the knife tumbling end over end?”

They practiced until Sigrid’s arm was sore. She was much better at the spin method of throwing than the no spin but was learning quickly. She handed the knives back to him and he slipped them back into the sheathes at his forearms, out of sight but for those that knew what signs to look for.

They walked their way back to Sigrid’s home, chatting about her lesson and his memories of his first lessons in knife throwing as well (“Dwalin learned quickly to stand well away after I almost cut off his beard the first time.”). When they reached her door, Fili glanced toward the mountain. “I’m afraid I need to get back,” he said, turning back to her, his mustache twitching from the smile lingering on his lips.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Sigrid asked.

“Yes Sigrid,” he said. “If you have it, put some ice on your arm. It’ll hurt less tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Fili.”

He gave her hands a quick squeeze and darted a quick glance up the street. No dwarrow were visible and he sighed in relief. “Tomorrow,” he said and released her hands before turning to walk down the path and to the street. He glanced back at the gate and waved when he saw her leaning against the door jamb. She returned the gesture before retreating into the house. Fili headed home, thinking of the first courting gift he would make her and wondering if he could ask for Thorin’s help with the design and calculations.

~*~*~

The week Sigrid’s leg healed entirely, she and her father returned to the mountain for the first round of negotiations. True to her word, Sigrid kept her sword at her side and Bard carried his bow. As they arrived in the mountain, Fili raced to greet them, calling her name loudly.

Grinning, Sigrid started to climb from the cart as soon as they came to a stop. She reached out a hand when he was close, expecting him to help her down as was proper. She startled when his hands gripped her hips and lifted her off the step, swinging her around as if she weighed no more than Magnus had when Fili gave him to Sigrid. He set her down and she tilted her face to present her cheek to him, falling back onto the cheek kisses they’d shared in Dale to appease the masses there. His hand caught the back of her head, turning her subtly and kissing her firmly on the lips. Her stomach swooped as it had during their first kiss. Before she could react more than to press back into the contact, he pulled away.

“You’re in the mountain now,” he reminded her softly, for her ears only. “Dwarrow courting rules apply, remember?”

“Sorry,” she whispered back, nodding her head. Behind her, Bard grumbled. “Seven months,” she called to him and he stopped.

“What does that mean?” Fili asked.

“Just a reminder,” Sigrid said. “I’ll tell you later.”

Fili nodded, pressed another quick kiss to her mouth, and stepped back. “I’ll show you to your rooms,” he said and turned. Instead of presenting his arm for Sigrid to take, he caught her hand with his, lacing their fingers together. Bard and Magnus followed.

Once they reached the same suite of rooms Sigrid and her family had stayed in a few weeks before, Fili pulled her aside while Bard took his pack into his room.

“I have something for you,” Fili said and Sigrid wondered at the color that flooded his cheeks as he retrieved a box that had been sitting on a table in the sitting room. He handed it to her. “My first courting gift to you,” he explained and then he straightened his stance and looked her in the eyes, his voice taking on the same tone he’d used when he’d explained the braid he’d put into her hair. “I made it willingly by my own hand and give it freely in hopes that you may find joy in it. May it serve you well and perhaps remind you of me and my devotion to you.”

Sigrid opened the box and grinned, pulling out four knives as well as leather sheathes she could wear strapped to her forearms and in her boots. “Throwing knives,” she said with a grin, feeling the weight of them. They were simple, black bladed with flat hilts that would conceal easily under her clothing and in her boots. They didn’t have any jewels but runes were etched into the dark handles. “I love them. Thank you.” She went to set the box aside.

Fili cleared his throat before she could and she halted. “Am I missing some dwarf culture difference?” she asked quietly.

“Do you accept the gift?” Fili asked formally.

Sigrid blinked. “I gladly accept it,” she said.

“Then may I help you put them on?”

“Oh!” Sigrid smiled. “Yes, please.” She sat down in a chair. Fili took the first set of sheaths out of the box and knelt next to her as she tugged her skirts up a little. She blushed furiously as she did, warring with the modesty she’d been raised to always portray as her leg was exposed to just below her knee. He lifted one of her feet, pulled her boot off, and started strapping the first sheath to her calf. He repeated the gesture on her other leg and put her boots back on. He slipped two of the new knives into place.

“How do they feel?” he asked quietly, his thumbs absently stroking at her skin next to the hilts.

“Fine,” Sigrid said, wondering at the small smile on his lips and the sudden high pitch to her own voice.

“Good,” he said. He dropped her feet to the floor and pressed a quick kiss to each leg, just below her knee before tugging her skirts back down. Sigrid’s breath hitched and she swallowed convulsively from his actions, something strange blocking her mental abilities to keep breathing for a second as her heart rate seemed to stop for a moment before picking up with a particularly hard beat.

“Arm please,” Fili said, still kneeling next to her. She held one out and he rolled up her sleeve in order to place the next sheath. He did so with her other arm as well and, once the knives were put away, he kissed her palms, close to her wrists. Gratitude swelled within Sigrid as he turned his attention to returning her sleeves to their proper position, covering her new weapons. “I’ll show you how to draw them quickly after negotiations are over.”

Sigrid mentally shook herself. “You just don’t want me to be able to beat you in arming myself if things become violent,” she accused. Relief coursed through her when Fili grinned his usual grin.

“You caught me,” he said.

Sigrid was about to retort when she caught sight of her father returning to the room. She stood again as Fili climbed back to his feet.

“We should be going,” Bard said, “at least, I think we should. How do you tell time in this place without the sun?”

“We have an instinct for time,” Fili admitted as he led them back out of the guest quarters down a few halls to where some conference rooms stood in the royal wing. He opened the door and showed them in. Dis, Thorin, Balin, and Ori already waited inside.

“They couldn’t decide who should be in charge of my side of the negotiations,” Fili stage-whispered.

“All right, quit your flirting and come over here,” Dis ordered. She looked at Sigrid’s wrists for a moment before a small smile tugged at her lips. “We have work to do.”

Fili heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Goodbye my love,” he intoned dramatically, “I shall endeavor to stay strong during this battle of wills.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Not too strong I hope. I would like to have a few things in my favor,” Sigrid laughed, squeezing his fingers before letting go. They took their places, ignoring the irritated looks from Bard and Thorin.

“Shall we begin?” Dis asked once they were all seated. At Bard’s nod, they started discussing the wedding contract. Problems arose quickly.

“What do you mean they’ll marry in the mountain?” Bard demanded. “The ceremony should be in Dale.”

“Outsiders cannot see the ceremony,” Thorin growled, lunging to his feet and staring Bard down.

“I’ll not miss my own daughter’s wedding due to the stubbornness of dwarves!” Bard snarled, standing as well.

“Sit down Thorin,” Dis ordered, hefting her ax menacingly at her brother.

“Perhaps we can reach some sort of compromise,” Balin said while linking his hands over his belly and leaning back in his chair. Ori continued to write, apparently recording everything said in the meeting.

Still glaring at each other, Thorin and Bard sank back into their seats, unwilling to break eye contact.

“I want my family there,” Sigrid said and all eyes turned to her. She’d been silent up to this point, not voicing any sort of opinion on the wedding date (Durin’s Day), coronation date and location (Durin’s Day after the wedding in Erebor), or her need to start learning khuzdul (she was actually looking forward to that one).

“Of course you do,” Dis said and cast a disparaging look at Thorin, “which is only _proper_. We know what is important in our ceremony. What is the main importance in your culture?”.

And so it went. They ran into troubles, arguments broke out. Thorin wielded Orcrist. Bard reached for his bow. Sigrid and Fili each reached for knives or swords. Dis hefted her ax. But no blood was spilled as Balin interjected in his calm, soothing brogue, encouraging compromise between the two cultures.

Only once were weapons actually used. Thorin and Bard stood on opposite sides of the table, shouting at each other over whether or not Magnus would be present during the ceremony (Bard was adamantly against and Thorin strangely for his participation, not just his presence). The King Under the Mountain had slipped into khuzdul at some point in his fury while Bard gripped a fistful of fur and cloth under the dwarf’s chin while shouting his own anger. Sigrid caught Fili’s eye. They nodded at each other and a second later two throwing daggers thumped into the tabletop between the men, close to their hands.

“Enough!” Sigrid snapped glaring at Thorin. “This is our wedding we’re talking about," she growled motioning between herself and Fili. "I am respecting dwarrow traditions by being here at all. Normally, I would plan this with the help of a few chosen friends or female relatives and Fili and his family would be expected to pay for most if not all of it. Since, for the most part, I don’t really care about the details, I’m not putting up a fuss. However, there are things I will insist upon.” Bard settled back into his seat, looking smug until his daughter rounded on him. “Don’t even think you’re not in trouble Da. You’ve not asked my opinion once in any matter.”

The man had the grace to look ashamed.

“Now, as for the current issue, Magnus will be part of the ceremony,” Fili continued and ignored his uncle’s bark of delighted laughter. “We will decide his particular role later once we finish figuring out just how the ceremony will progress. For now, I think we need to take a break before Sigrid or I start putting our knives in the thoughtless uncle in the room.”

“And father,” Sigrid added, directing a displeased scowl at Bard.

“Wonderful idea,” Dis said giving Fili and Sigrid a pleased glance each. “Now, why don’t the two of you-” she pointed at Bard and Thorin “-head down to the kitchens and bring us some lunch. We’ll wait here.”

Grumbling the two climbed from their seats and walked out of the room. A few moments after the door was shut, Dis leaned forward in her chair. “Good. Now that they’re gone, let’s get some real work done. Sigrid, what exactly do you want? We’ll do what we can to make sure it happens.”

Smiling tentatively at the dwarrowdam, Sigrid’s shoulders relaxed. “Not much,” she admitted. “Fili as the groom, me as the bride-” here Dis smiled and Balin chuckled from his seat where he was taking notes. Ori had never stopped. “-I want Tilda as my bridesmaid, Tauriel as my maid of honor. I’ve never thought of having an extravagant wedding. I come from simple means, Your Highness, and I have difficulty in forgetting my simple ways.”

“Simple, hmm? We dwarrow aren’t used to simple,” Dis said, “but perhaps we can find a compromise.”

“A suggestion,” Balin said. “We keep it simple but elegant and in the time leading up to it, we make a lot of noise about how it will be the wedding of the age. If enough believe it, you’ll set a new trend for weddings and fewer will criticize your choices. There will have to be some extravagance in materials to appease some, but I think we can manage a simpler level of decor.”

“I don’t want to be loaded down with precious metals and jewels,” Sigrid said, warily leaning back in her chair. “I want to be able to walk easily.”

“Of course, but we can have certain things shipped here. Fine fabrics for your dress, exotic foods and drink, and flowers. I understand flowers are important in your weddings?”

“Mostly just the bride’s bouquet, but yes.”

“We’ll get Bilbo on that,” Balin said. “No better gardener in the mountain.”

“Or in Dale,” Sigrid added. “I don’t want to impose on his time though.”

“He’s bored Sigrid,” Fili told her. “Chances are he’ll be thrilled at having a task to complete.”

“If you say so.”

“Anything else?” Dis asked.

“The only indulgence I ask is that it be colorful,” Sigrid said. “Too many weddings I witnessed in Laketown were muted and dreary. I would love for there to be lots of colors.”

“Any colors in particular lass?” Balin asked.

“Considering the time of year, perhaps reds, warm browns, gold, bronze?” Balin and Dis nodded, the latter looking at her golden son contemplatively, already thinking of what colors she would suggest for him.

“We’ll see what we can find to match Durin blue.”

They worked as quickly as they could without Bard and Thorin in the room and accomplished quite a bit before they returned. Even with their arrival, Sigrid, Dis, and Fili managed to take care of the last of the details with Bard and Thorin looking on, a bit perturbed that they’d been usurped in their roles of planning the wedding.

“I’ll draw up the contract tonight,” Balin said, rolling up the parchment that held his lines upon lines of notes. “You’ll have to decide on providers and vendors over the next few days while you’re here. Shall we plan to sign the final draft in three days?”

Sigrid blanched. With every item on the list that required choices to still be made, she wasn’t sure they could accomplish it all in such a short time. She looked to Fili.

“We can do it in three days,” he said giving her a confident smile.

She swallowed hard but nodded. If he thought they could accomplish it in so little time, she’d trust his word.

“Wonderful. I suggest you get to work,” Dis said, giving her son a warm smile, leaning over to crack heads with him quickly. “Your time starts now.”

“Right. Come on Sigrid.” He reached for her with one hand and accepted a rolled scroll from Balin containing the list of all the choices they needed to make.

Sigrid grabbed the throwing knife she’d left embedded in the table as a reminder to her father and Thorin and then let Fili pull her out of the room.

“Are we really expected to do all this in three days?” Sigrid asked as she jogged along behind him. She vaguely noted they were headed back toward the royal quarters and suspected they were headed to see Bilbo about the flowers first. “And why isn’t someone chaperoning us?”

“It’s another sort of challenge,” Fili admitted. “Most are given five days or a week to put everything together. The shorter amount of time we’re allowed to plan, the more the test is. It’s to see if we can work well together under stress. If we can’t accomplish it or if we argue too much, the match will be considered ill-suited and the wedding will be called off.

“As for the chaperone, we can’t have someone accompany us. Some might think they influenced our decisions and we have to make all choices on our own. Of course, that’s the excuse couples have used for centuries to be able to slip away for some alone time. It’s expected, just as long as we don’t disappear for more than a few hours.”

“Why are we being shorted on time?” Sigrid asked.

“I’d imagine it has to do with a lot of my people still questioning whether or not our match is one based on love. We’ve got to be able to work together on this, prove to them that we can, otherwise all will be lost and you’ll be banned from the mountain for trying to seduce the Crown Prince.”

“So I’m not allowed to do any seducing. I think I can handle that.”

Fili laughed and stopped abruptly in front of a door. He knocked and when granted entrance, he pulled Sigrid inside. She found herself being greeted by the resident hobbit.

“Fili, Lady Sigrid! Come in, join me for tea? Just let me wash up,” Bilbo called.

Sigrid looked at the table set for three people already. “How did he know to expect us?” she asked Fili.

“Amad probably warned him at some point. I’m not questioning it. This is probably the most help we’re liable to get.”

Sigrid nodded. When Bilbo returned, she and Fili took a seat.

“Now,” Bilbo said while pouring the tea and nodding toward the scones and cakes and things, indicating they should take what they wanted, “as I understand it, you have a wedding to plan and need a little help. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all for your kind comments and kudos. If you have a moment, please leave a comment, especially if you have suggestions or questions or even prompts for other works. I enjoy a challenge. I look forward to hearing from you!
> 
> Happy reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nori is sneaky.
> 
> Being romantic is hard for friends.
> 
> Sigrid needs a nap.
> 
> Fili gets embarrassed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all absolutely amazing! So many wonderful comments and kudos and more subscriptions. You make me feel so loved. Please, continue to show the love.
> 
>  
> 
> Edit 10/7/2018: Typos fixed.

Chapter 11

The flowers ended up being a simple matter, mostly because Fili didn’t really know anything about them and Sigrid wasn’t too picky, not having been the type of girl to plan her wedding when she was thirteen. Bilbo spoke to them in depth about the flower language hobbits used, naming many that were appropriate for weddings. Sigrid and Fili steered him away from flowers like red roses or forget-me-nots. Instead, they chose ones like geraniums and alstroemeria and comet orchids and dogwood flowers. Bilbo assured them he could either grow the flowers in the mountain or have them brought from other lands, perhaps even the Shire if he sent word right away and a merchant was found heading to the Lonely Mountain. The couple thanked him for his work and help, Fili writing some runes onto the parchment Balin had given him before they took their leave.

“Where next?” Sigrid asked. “Is there anyone we should try to see today before business halts?”

Fili snorted. “No one that has anything to do with weddings as part of their business is going to be leaving the markets until we’ve finalized everything on this list,” he said. “Every merchant is going to be vying for the opportunity to provide service for the first royal wedding the mountain has seen since decades before Smaug invaded our halls. Many patrons will stay in the markets as well, hoping to be the first to follow the trends we’ll set with our wedding. It’s going to be loud and crowded. I hope you’re ready.” He paused in their walking close to her and her father’s rooms. “If you’d like to change your clothes into something more comfortable or retrieve anything, now is the time to do it. Once we enter the market, we won’t have a moment’s peace until we’re done.”

Sigrid glanced down at herself, noting the formal dress she’d worn for the meeting before glancing at Fili. He was dressed more casually. His clothes were still fine to be sure, but not at the level she’d worn in anticipation of meeting with the King Under the Mountain. “I’ll go change,” she said. “Do you want to wait inside?”

Fili nodded and followed her into the receiving area of the suite. Magnus bounded up to them the moment the door opened and nudged at their hands in turn, demanding attention.

“All right,” Fili said, laughing. He accepted the pouch of treats Sigrid handed him absently and started testing the dog on his non-verbal commands that were a simplified form of Iglishmêk often taught to babies. 

Bard came out of his room, saw who it was, greeted them, and retreated again with a sour look on his face, not thrilled at all about the current challenge. Dis had informed him of the tradition and the time constraint. He had a feeling he wouldn’t see his daughter for three days and that she probably wouldn’t be doing a lot of sleeping. He hoped someone took pity on her and made sure she ate at least. Perhaps he’d see if he could find her periodically throughout these preparations and make sure she had food.

Sigrid returned a few minutes later in more comfortable but still nice clothing. She seemed to be breathing easier as well. Looking closely, Fili saw she still wore the knives he’d given her and he fought back a grin. She still carried her sword as well.

“Much better. I can breathe now,” she said and took the bag of dried meat back from Fili. “Ready?” she asked him.

“Into the jaws of death we go,” he said with a slightly manic grin. “Let’s be off.”

“Bye Da!” Sigrid called and snapped her fingers at Magnus. The dog perked up from where he was lying on his back playing dead. He rolled over, shook out his massively fluffy coat, and trotted after Sigrid, taking up position on her left side as Fili walked on her right. “Where do we start?” Sigrid asked.

“A suggestion?”

Sigrid jumped, reaching for her sword. Magnus responded to her alarm instantly and without direction, stepping in front of his human and growling at the perceived threat.

“Hello Nori,” Fili said, completely at ease. It had become a game with the spymaster. The older dwarf would appear randomly, trying to startle Fili while the prince did his best not to react to the sudden arrivals. “You know you’re not supposed to help us with this.”

“Consider my being here as a merchant trying to get the upper hand on providing a contribution to the royal wedding,” he said.

Fili snorted. “You just want to procure our services for your brother.”

Nori smirked. “That’s not entirely fair to Dori. He can handle his own dealings. However, if you do go through him for your textile requirements, a little work may be directed my way. Not much higher honor than to have the crown prince and his lady wife wearing your embroidery on their wedding day, now is there?”

“Indeed,” Fili laughed and turned to his bride-to-be. “Sigrid, you remember Nori?”

Sigrid smiled and curtsied. “Of course I do. How are you, Master Nori?”

Nori’s sharp eyes turned to her, noting the subtle tug she gave to Magnus’ tail. The dog immediately retreated back to her side. He also noted the sheathes on her forearms and calves with great interest. Last he’d heard, Fili had been teaching her how to use throwing knives. Had that been his courting gift to her? “I’m well, Your Ladyship. And yourself?”

“Excited for the task in front of us,” Sigrid said with a quick smile at Fili. “I was unaware of your skill with a needle. May I see some of your work?”

“My finest work is at Dori’s shop. I’d be happy to let you see it if you’ll follow me?”

Fili shook his head. “You know we can’t go straight there. We’d be accused of favoritism and not giving all merchants a fair chance. What are you playing at?”

Nori’s answering grin was wolfish. “And yet you’ve just come from Bilbo’s rooms, asking him to do the flowers without talking to any other merchants.”

“There are no others within the mountain that deal with flowers,” Fili reminded him. “He was the logical and only choice.”

“Not someone from Dale?”

“We don’t have time to go to Dale,” Sigrid said. “Besides, this isn’t just my wedding. It’s Fili’s as well. As the Crown Prince of Erebor, we must be sure to show his people that we support them as we ask for their support in turn.” She smiled down at Fili. 

“Just making sure you remember what you’re doing,” Nori said with a grin. “I’ll still expect you to come to see my stitchery, but it doesn’t have to be today. Until then.” He excused himself without another word, sauntering away and somehow disappearing into shadows.

When he was out of earshot, Sigrid turned to Fili. “Why do I feel as if I’ve just missed something important?”

Fili chuckled as they started towards the markets again at a brisk pace. “Nori’s good at observation. Chances are, he came here to get an idea of what kind of person you are. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of him for the foreseeable future.”

Sigrid frowned for a moment but quickly schooled her expression into something far more pleasant as they moved into the more public areas of the mountain. “What’s on the list?” she asked finally. He lifted the list and showed it to her. “I can’t read that. Where do we start?” she asked after swallowing away some of her anxiety.

“We’ll sample everything in the markets offered to us that pertain to our mission and then head to the guild halls,” Fili said. “We can’t slight anyone without creating a political mess, even if we have no intention of asking for service from certain vendors.”

“Politics,” Sigrid sighed. “All right, let’s start.” She straightened her spine, ordered Magnus to stay close to her side, and wrapped her arm around Fili’s bicep in order to defer to his lead through the unfamiliar market.

They started, first, with stationery and inks that would be turned into invitations to be sent out to foreign dignitaries and other long-distance guests as well as for the more elite members of Dale and Erebor. They worked hard and fast, sampling wares, listening to the sellers but also doing their best to limit the amount of time they spent with each merchant. 

Through the entire process, Sigrid found Fili always at her side, constantly brushing their sides against each other, handing things to her and making sure his fingers grazed hers at every opportunity, giving her lingering looks, and kissing her any time the opportunity presented itself, mostly on the cheek or her hand. Rarely did he kiss her lips, only when she was facing him directly and smiling as she showed him something in particular that she liked would he stretch up on his toes and press his lips to hers in a quick display of affection. At first, Sigrid felt herself flush at each and every intimate display but soon relaxed as the dwarrow around them didn’t seem to take any offense or find anything scandalous about the actions. The few humans in the market looked on aghast at the behavior but didn’t say anything about the Lady of Dale or her husband-to-be within their hearing.

It was early in their endeavors, while they were examining the work of a haberdasher that Sigrid realized how much work Fili was putting into making their relationship seem real for his people. Up until now, he had initiated all of their romantic contact, from the times he’d let his fingers brush along her arm, neck, or cheeks (always avoiding her hair), to the quick kisses he placed to her lips. If they were going to convince every one of their mutual regard for each other, she was going to need to keep up appearances on her side as well.

Swallowing, she waited for an opportunity to present itself. It didn’t take long. When Fili leaned toward her to point out a fur pillbox hat similar to the one she’d worn at midwinter, she bent enough to be able to place a kiss on his cheek. She felt her face flame at her own daring. He glanced at her startled, before grinning and returning his attention to what he’d been showing her. Sigrid sighed in relief when he didn’t react any further. She fought against the propriety that had been drilled into her head, especially over the last two years, trying to be more physically affectionate with him.

Her efforts were rewarded spectacularly when she caught him completely off guard late that evening, placing a somewhat lingering kiss to his lips when he turned to ask her if she preferred rubies over sapphires. His hands had shifted from the table beside them and he reached up to pull her closer, fingers curling around the back of her neck and against her hip. She gripped his upper arms in return as he held her still for another few seconds. When they pulled apart, she heard a few wistful sighs from the crowd and someone murmuring, “young love” in a longing tone. She bit her bottom lip, trying to stifle a giggle at the crowd’s reaction as Fili let his forehead rest against hers. He returned the grin, eyes full of mischief. He kissed her again, faster and made a show of tearing himself away from the embrace. She resisted the urge to mock swoon.

The sun set before they had made it through ten merchants and Sigrid braced herself for the long night before her. It wasn’t until she realized how few dwarflings were still in the markets that Sigrid realized she was hungry. Pulling Fili aside once they finished with a particular odious Dwarrowdam trying to convince them to buy her candles, Sigrid murmured. “Can we speak to a food vendor next? I’m afraid we missed dinner.”

Fili looked around. “Oh, you’re right,” he said looking a bit at a loss. “We’ve made good progress. Let’s just head to the kitchens. If we’re lucky, Bombur will still be there and he’ll give us a few moments of peace while we eat.”

Luckily, Bombur was still in the kitchens but preparing to leave. He quickly sat the two down at a table in the kitchen, glaring the various helpers away from them as he retrieved bowls of a delicious ham and cheese soup with a soft, herbed bread. The robust dwarf even retrieved a bone to give to Magnus. The dog went to it with a will, stripping the last bits of venison from it and gnawing on it with a determination and satisfaction only achieved by the most pleased of k-nines. Sigrid sighed in delight as she ate, happy for something hearty in her system and for the chance to be off her feet.

“What’s next on the list?” Sigrid asked once her stomach stopped trying to digest her spine.

“Jewelers,” Fili said with a grimace.

“I take it you can’t be the jeweler for our wedding?”

“Oh, I can be,” he said, “but I can’t make that decision. I’m afraid I can’t give you any input on who we decide to contract as it’s a conflict of interest.”

Sigrid snorted. “You’re my intended. Doesn’t it stand to reason that I’d pick you regardless?”

“Is that how humans handle such things?” he asked, wiping up the last of the broth from his soup with the crust of his bread. Bombur appeared at that moment with two more bowls, this time filled with a peach crisp smothered in clotted cream. Sigrid grinned in delight at her first bite.

“It’s considered rude to consider someone’s work over that of our significant others, no matter the quality,” she said.

Fili snorted. “Don’t choose my work just because we’re getting married to each other,” he said. “Pick what you like best. I won’t be offended.”

“Can we start with looking at your work next then?” she asked, twisting her spoon aimlessly inside the peach concoction in front of her. 

“We should spend more time in the markets,” he said. “Once you get too tired to keep going, we can head to my workshop for you to see my work.”

“Why wait until I’m tired?” she asked.

Fili smirked. “I have a bad habit of getting caught up in projects,” he admitted. “Amad had a couch put in there for me to sleep on when I find myself exhausted after I forget to stop working. You can have a few hours of rest undisturbed.”

“What will you do in the meantime?” she asked.

“I’ll write all we’ve talked about out, keep track of the vendors we liked so we can make the final decisions without having to go back to those we’ve already talked to.”

Sigrid nodded and started working her way through the dessert in front of her.

Their break was over too soon and they headed back to the markets again with a promise from Bombur that there would be someone in the kitchens all night to get the food the next time they found themselves hungry and that, if they came in first thing the next morning, he’d be sure to have something extra special prepared for them for breakfast.

Sigrid gave up about an hour before the sun would rise outside the mountain. She looked at Fili apologetically as she tried to discreetly yawn behind her hand. He noticed the motion and, as soon as the current jeweler they were talking to finished extolling the virtues of his wares, Fili offered to show her his own work. She accepted and they moved away from the market and the slowly building crowds as baker’s assistants and others started their days before the general populous arrived, some taking over for those that had stayed all night in case the Prince and his intended happened to stop by to sample or examine their products during the night.

“Here we are,” Fili said, showing her into the private workshop he’d claimed once Smaug had vacated the treasure horde for his watery grave. Sigrid stepped in behind him and sighed in relief at the sight of the couch tucked well away from the small forge at the other end of the room. “Go ahead,” Fili encouraged as he locked the door. “Have a nap. I’ll be here when you wake up and then we can go bother Bombur for something to eat.”

Sigrid gratefully sat on the worn but comfortable couch, pulling her boots off and leaving them near her and out of the way if Fili were to wander the workshop. Magnus, also exhausted, curled up on the thick rug next to the couch and went instantly to sleep. Once Sigrid tucked her legs up onto the couch, Fili handed her his folded coat to use as a pillow, having taken it off as they entered to leave his arms free while he wrote and possibly tinkered around with a project. He then retrieved a blanket and lay it over her, tucking it in around her shoulders. “Get some sleep,” he said.

“What about you?” she asked drowsily, already half asleep.

He smiled. “I’ll be fine. Dwarf, remember? I can manage for a few days without sleep. I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

She didn’t respond, already breathing softly, a quiet counterpoint to Magnus’ sniffling snore and the scratching of Fili’s pencil as he consolidated their notes for easier review later.

~*~*~

True to his word, Fili woke Sigrid three hours later. She yawned, rubbed at her eyes, and lamented at the lack of sleep. He handed her a mug of tea from the supply he kept in his workshop.

“Drink this while I braid your hair,” he ordered as he took a seat next to her, gripping her shoulders and turning her so her back faced him.

She didn’t protest, tucking her stockinged feet beneath her on the couch and letting the steam curling off the cup help her wake as her fingers warmed more thoroughly around her drink. Fili started pulling pins from her hair as well as the beads and clasp holding her betrothal braid together. Sigrid ignored the slight tremor in his hands, choosing not to comment on it and giving him the chance to get used to handling her hair. He’d redone the braid a few times since he first put it in, but she’d learned the pattern quickly and could do it herself. She had a feeling that by allowing him to touch her hair when it wasn’t necessary meant something. She just wasn’t sure what.

When her hair was finally free of its confines, he tried combing his fingers through it only to meet a plethora of snarls. He hummed softly, his fingers moving to fiddle with the hilt of one of his knives.

“Something wrong?” Sigrid asked around a yawn.

“Stay here a moment,” he ordered and went back to his workbench. He rummaged around for a bit before giving a triumphant sound and returning with a pair of half-finished decorative combs.

“Those are pretty,” Sigrid complimented when he showed them to her.

“They’re not finished yet, obviously,” he said, pointing to the areas where he’d fit gems. “I’m making them for Amad for her birthday. I don’t think she’ll mind if I use them on your hair though.” He started using the pretty hair pieces to detangle her hair. They fell into a companionable silence while he worked and she enjoyed her tea, one small sip at a time.

“What do you do with the rest of this?” Fili asked once he finished placing the beads and clasp in her hair.

“Just a simple three strand plait that I pin up,” she said. She felt him start sectioning out her hair. “We’re not breaking some rule by having you do my hair for me, are we?”

Fili started braiding again and she glanced at him over her shoulder. He gave a tug to get her to hold still but not before she saw the nervous set to his jaw and his shaking fingers. “Technically, I shouldn’t do this until after we’re married, but it’s such a simple braid that doesn’t hold any meaning that I didn’t think you’d mind too much.”

“I don’t,” Sigrid said and found herself having to resist the urge to lean into his solid warmth at her back. The room was a bit chilly for her, especially after sleeping under the heavy blanket. “I won’t tell anyone either.” She yawned again before sipping at her tea some more.

“Good. How do you do the pins?”

She paused, thinking for a moment. She remembered the dwarrowdams she’d seen in the markets and guild halls the night before. Most had worn all their hair but their braids free. She couldn’t bring herself to that level of undress as she thought it, but maybe she could compromise. “Leave it down,” she said. “I think I need to start making changes if I’m to live amongst dwarrow. My hair is probably one of the most important changes I can make in your culture, correct?”

“Yes. Now, come look at my work,” Fili urged with a smile at her efforts and stood, “then we can head to the kitchens for something to eat while we figure out our plan of attack for today.” He helped Sigrid to her feet and led her to the bench. He pulled a few items out of a nearby cupboard, placing them before her.

“These are beautiful,” she said before he could say anything, her fingers hovering over various items that sparked in the lantern light. Her gaze landed on a gold disk for a time, taking in the scene carved into the surface. “Are those trolls?” she asked, pointing to part of it.

Fili grinned. “They are. Uncle asked me to chronicle our journey in a more permanent form than Ori’s written account. I’ve got a bit left to do but that can wait until after Durin’s Day.” He purposely did not mention the other significant events happening that particular day.

“The detail is wonderful,” She looked over a few more pieces. “It’s decided. I like your work the best. Would you be the jeweler for our wedding?”

“Sigrid, don’t pick me just because we’re getting married,” Fili admonished.

“I’m not,” she said, honesty clear in her words. “Every other jeweler we saw showed us things that were large, heavy, and far too ornate for my taste. I like the smooth lines and attention to detail in your work.”

Fili blushed, looking to the side. His expression embarrassed and a bit irritated.

“Fili?” Sigrid asked. “Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said.

She touched the back of his hand and waited for him to turn his eyes back to her. “Please tell me.”

He heaved a sigh. “My work, the fewer jewels, the smaller pieces, the lack of extravagance. They’re marks of one who doesn’t have a lot of wealth,” he admitted quietly. “Before we retook Erebor when I was earning my mastery and the few years after, we didn’t have much. I did what I could, earned what I could, but materials for a jeweler are expensive, and in a place like the Blue Mountains, there isn’t a lot of need or desire for the more opulent and extravagant pieces typical of dwarrow jewelers. If I wanted to sell my work, I had to keep things small, make sure my supply never exceeded my demand or we’d lose money and go hungry. I could work with so much more now, but old habits are hard to break.”

She shifted her fingers until her hand covered his. “I know a bit about those worries and habits,” she reminded him. “I fret over any wasted thread when I sew and I lament any wasted food. Your work is beautiful and precise. You make such delicate things that I find far more enticing than the heavy, blocky things we saw yesterday. I’d much rather wear this,” she held up a slim, silver bracelet with seven tiny golden stars interwoven into the chain, “than the most precious and largest of gems.”

Fili took the bracelet from her and studied it closely before taking her hand and putting it on her wrist. “Remind me whenever I start to worry too much about what the kingdom will think about a lack of extravagance. We grew up in simple means. We should not be ashamed of those roots.”

Sigrid smiled at him and bumped her shoulder into his. “Of course. Now, let’s go get breakfast,” she urged. “I’m starving and I’m sure Magnus would rather just go back to hide in my rooms with Da and sleep for a few more hours. Lucky pup that he is, he has the option.”

Fili grinned, his mood lightening as he glanced over at the dog sprawled out and paws twitching in a dream. He packed away the rest of the items he’d shown Sigrid, marked something down on the list Balin had given them the day before and led her out of the workshop and to the kitchens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a moment, please leave a comment or a kudo. You're all amazing!
> 
> Happy reading!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bombur is an awesome chef.
> 
> Magnus makes a friend.
> 
> Fili gets a little excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all wonderful! All the comments and kudos have really made my week. I am almost finished with the rough draft with this entire story. I should finish it in the next day or two. Once it's done, would you like me to post more often? Let me know.

Chapter 12

“Master Bombur, you are a king among chefs,” Sigrid said, her eyes glued to the food on her plate.

“Hungry, I take it,” Bombur said, chest swelling up with pride at her praise. “Eat as much as you like. There’s plenty more. You too Your Highness.”

Fili nodded his thanks, eating his food while he looked over the list as well as the notes he’d made while Sigrid slept. “We’ve got a lot more to accomplish today,” he told her.

Sigrid glanced at his work and frowned. “Someone needs to teach me how to read your language. How else am I going to understand any of that?”

Fili set his tea side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t even think to write in Westron. Once we visit the rest of the vendors and the guild halls we can find somewhere to talk it over and I’ll translate it for you. Where would you like to start today?”

“What do we still need?”

Fili picked up Balin’s list again. “Let’s see here. Scribe, musicians, decorators that will work with Bilbo, furnishings, blacksmith, weavers, cobblers, catering, and so on and so forth.”

“Is that all?” Sigrid said hanging her head in despair.

“Drink your tea, Sigrid. We have work to do.”

“Did we even accomplish anything yesterday?”

Fili chuckled. “We managed to make it through stationary, haberdasher, and jewelers in the little time we had last night and jewelers is one of the hardest ones to decide in this mountain.”

Sigrid reached for a peach, intending to stuff it in her pocket for a snack for later.

“I’d suggest you not snack through the day,” Fili warned as he polished off the last of his breakfast. “We’re going to want to be hungry this afternoon when we start going through catering. They’re going to stuff us full of wedding food.” He grinned when Sigrid set the peach back down dejectedly. “Come on. Let’s go.” He stood and bent over to kiss the top of her head.

They started by taking Magnus back to Sigrid’s and Bard’s rooms, leaving the dog with her father so he could sleep. Then they went straight to the Weaver’s Guild only to be instantly accosted by every master there.

“Back up you vultures!” Dori’s imperious voice rang out above the din. “Give them some air and prepare your fabrics and designs to be examined in an orderly manner. You have ten seconds.”

Every dwarf crowding them suddenly disappeared and Fili cast a thankful grin at the approaching Guild Master. “Thank you, Master Dori,” he said, extending a hand in greeting. The older dwarf returned the grip and they cracked heads. Sigrid took a step back, worried she might be next.

“Welcome both of you. I’m sure you have much to do today so we’ll get started right away. All our masters are present and prepared for you. There is a table set up for you over there. They’ll bring their work to you to examine. If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll prepare some tea for you while you get to work.”

“Thank you so much, Master Dori,” Sigrid said, smiling. “This is so kind of you and seems so much more organized than I ever could have hoped.”

“You are welcome, My Lady. Now off you go.” Dori shooed them to the table.

Once seated, the weaving masters approached one at a time, introduced themselves, and showed them various designs for the clothing the two would wear for their wedding. Some of it had Sigrid holding back gasping breaths at the idea of having to lug around so many layers and finery. At some point early in the proceedings, Dori appeared with cups of tea for them both. They never seemed to run dry.

A little more than halfway through all the waiting dwarrow, Nori approached the table with his older brother. “Hello Your Highness, Your Ladyship,” the thief said with a grin. Dori gave him a sharp nudge. “What?” He demanded. “They know who we are so there’s no need to introduce ourselves.”

“It’s only proper,” Dori groused at him.

“Guild Master Dori, Master Nori, please, you don’t have to stand on ceremony with us,” Fili said. “Please, show us your ideas.”

Dori started, laying out cloth samples as Nori laid a few colorful designs on the table that showed the clothing ideas in full figure as well as drawings of the embroidery. He also pulled out samples of his work, displaying his skill.

“This is lovely,” Sigrid said, pointing to one of the designs. It was similar to the geometric patterns the dwarrow favored but the edges were softer and flowed more smoothly. 

Nori smirked at his brother with a nod of satisfaction. “Told you she’d like that one,” he said. Dori cast him a disparaging look.

Fili and Sigrid finished looking over their work and that of the rest of the guild. They thanked Dori, Nori, and all those present for making the process so quick and promised to let them know soon of their decision before leaving.

“That took about two hours less than I feared it would,” Fili confessed sounding pleased. “Let’s go to the scribe’s guild and hope we have similar luck.”

They worked their way through the scribes quickly as they’d prepared in advance for the royal couple as well. They’d collected a sample of each scribe’s best calligraphy and placed them before Fili and Sigrid anonymously. All they had to do was pick the one they liked the most. They selected three of the samples they liked best and took their leave, again promising to decide soon.

“I love when things are this organized,” Sigrid said and hid a yawn behind her hand. “If this keeps going so smoothly, I might be able to sneak in a nap.”

Fili laughed. “Don’t count on it. I’ll make sure you have a few more hours of sleep tonight though,” he promised. They continued on, heading back to the market to work on the smaller decisions. The afternoon was spent sampling food. By the time Bard found them at dinner time, Sigrid was too full to even entertain the idea of sitting down at a table for a meal. She apologized to her father and promised to find him the next morning for breakfast if it was allowed. He nodded and wandered away, leaving a much rested and refreshed Magnus with her.

They worked late into the night. As they left the Musicians’ Guild, a young dwarrowdam stepped in front of them and Sigrid had to abort the yawn that was threatening to creep out of her. “Lady Sigrid?”

“Yes?” Sigrid asked, taking in the large nose, high forehead, stocky body under fine clothing, and dark scowl. From what Fili had told her of typical dwarven beauty, she would be considered rather lovely. 

Pain flared across her cheek as the dam slapped her hard enough to bruise, waking her instantly. Blinking in surprise and against the pain, she looked at Fili who had an irritated look on his face. 

“Lady Burfastr,” he growled. “Do you know what you do?”

“I Challenge Lady Sigrid for your Courtship.” The dam stepped back a few paces as she waited expectantly.

“Can she do that?” Sigrid asked in a whisper. He nodded. “All right. What do I do?”

“If you want to continue our courtship, you answer her Challenge on the field of your choosing at the time of your choosing. The rules for the fight will be the same as when you fought Dwalin. I suggest you get it over with as soon as possible. Otherwise, she has the right to attach herself to my side until you do.”

Sigrid tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling, curses running through her mind as she fought with her exhaustion-born anger. “Where’s the closest appropriate place?”

“The eastern training grounds.”

Sigrid heaved a sigh and turned her attention back to the dam. Raising her voice, she said, “I accept. We will meet at the eastern training grounds in thirty minutes’ time.”

Nodding once, the dam stalked off, looking like an offended bobcat.

“Come on, Magnus,” Sigrid said, the wheels in her head sluggishly turning. “I might have an idea on how to end this quickly so we can get back to work.”

Fili led the way, and soon they arrived at the training yard with the hound at Sigrid’s side. She examined the floor of the ring where Fili told her she’d fight. Even at the late hour, there were guards present. Sigrid caught sight of Dwalin off to the side and the large dwarf approached them, a curious look on his face. He growled something in khuzdul which Fili answered. He laughed loudly and clapped a large hand to Sigrid’s back.

“Go get ‘er, lass!” he encouraged and then took a seat on a nearby set of bleachers. Many followed him, excited for the fight to come.

“Fili? Can I borrow one of your knives?”

“Of course. Here.” He pulled out a dagger from behind his back and handed it to her, looking puzzled. 

“How hard is this ground? If I throw a knife into it, will it drive in to the hilt?” she asked as she led Magnus over to the corner of the small arena and ordered him to stay and pointed at the corner of her eye. The dog sat, tongue lolling in a grin and watched Sigrid and Fili walk a few feet away towards the center of the ring.

“Not with your strength, no. Why?”

“What if I stab it?”

“Probably. What are you up to Sigrid?”

She rolled her shoulders a few times. “Trust me,” she said with a wolfish grin. She stepped further into the ring. She didn’t bother to draw her sword as Lady Burfastr faced off against her with a large war ax held across her body. A guard stepped between them, announcing the fight in khuzdul. As soon as he ordered the start, Sigrid shifted her stance, glancing to her side.

“Magnus!” she called and hooked her index fingers together before pointing at the charging dam. The hound surged to his feet and forward, slamming into Burfastr’s side and dropping her to the ground. Dwalin roared with laughter in the stands as the enormous dog dropped his head and started enthusiastically bathing Burfastr’s face.

Sigrid walked up calmly and crouched next to where the dam spluttered and tried to shove away a face full of tongue and fluff. When she snarled something in khuzdul and reached for a knife, Sigrid stepped on her wrist. “I highly recommend you don’t hurt him,” she said calmly and smirked when hate-filled eyes glared up at her.

“Get him off me before I kill him,” she snarled in response.

Sigrid sighed. She lifted her free hand and pointed to her eyes and clicked her tongue. Instantly, Magnus looked at her, waiting. She dropped her hand so her palm hovered parallel to the ground. Magnus’ back end dropped to more thoroughly trap the dam beneath him. A wheezing rush of air escaped her when the nearly two-hundred-pound bulk dropped onto her chest, stomach, and upper legs.

“Good boy,” Sigrid said, patting his ears. She turned her attention back to Burfastr. “I wouldn’t harm him as he was a gift from Prince Fili who also spent a great deal of time helping me train him over half of last summer and autumn and into the winter before the roads became impassible. As soon as we are married, the dog will be his as well. I’m pretty sure he’ll be irritated if you hurt our pet.”

“He’s just an animal!” The dam spat, just missing Sigrid’s shoulder.

Sigrid slammed Fili’s knife into the ground, nicking Burfastr’s ear and drawing blood. She leaned in close, her knee digging into the dam’s shoulder and her toes into her wrist. Bones creaked there, protesting the pressure and angle. “You listen to me, and you listen well. If you so much as come near Prince Fili or me with the intent of destroying my courtship with His Highness ever again, I will gut you, shove your entrails down whatever remains of your throat, and fillet you using one of his knives. Now, yield or I start here and now.” Burfastr refused to reply. Sigrid jerked the knife from the ground, sending a spray of dirt across her prone opponent’s face. “No? Then let’s get started. Normally, I’d start with your head, but I want to be able to shove your guts down your throat so I’ll just start with eviscerating you. Back up Magnus.” She twitched her fingers twice and Magnus shifted back about half a foot, keeping his belly down and the dam pinned. Sigrid placed the tip of her knife at Burfastr’s throat and applied pressure until blood welled.

“Wait.”

Sigrid didn’t move, just stared at the dwarrowdam, the knife still digging into flesh.

“I yield.”

“What was that?” Sigrid asked. “I don’t think His Highness heard you.”

“I yield!”

“And the dwarrow at the top of the stands?”

“I YIELD!”

The stands erupted into chaos. Sigrid pulled her knife away and motioned for Magnus to step back. Burfastr climbed to her feet and left the ring without looking back. Later, Sigrid would blame the adrenaline and exhaustion for what she did next.

“Anyone else?” She shouted at the top of her lungs and the room quieted instantly. No one spoke or moved as she spun, her eyes taking in the audience that had gathered before and during the fight. “Hear me now, dwarrow of Erebor. Prince Fili is my intended and if anyone besides him tries to change that, I will take them on in combat and beat them into the ground. Yes, Master Dwalin, I will fight you a second time and beat you just as thoroughly as the first. By the Valar, I will fight every dwarf in this mountain if that’s what it takes. Now, would anyone else like to Challenge me for Prince Fili’s Courtship? No one? Wonderful. If you’ll excuse me, I have a wedding to plan.” She turned and stalked out of the arena, Magnus at her side with his tail up and wagging like a heavily plumed flag of victory.

Fili caught her hand when she crossed the low barrier. “You brought this on yourself,” he warned before tucking his knee behind her legs, wrapping an arm around her waist, placing a hand at the back of her neck, and tipped her backward. Instinctively, she flung her arms up and wrapped them around his neck as she started to fall back. He swallowed her squeak of alarm with a long, hard, open-mouthed kiss as the crowd cheered and hooted at their expense.

When he finally tipped her back up, he kept kissing her less passionately but just as showy, pressing his lips to hers in shorter and shorter kisses. Magnus bounded around them, sniffing at hands and looking for a treat for his good behavior in the ring. Sigrid made a fist at him and he sat at their sides, staring up at where Fili’s lips still lingered against hers.

“Now what did I do that would have deserved such a kiss if we actually loved each other?” Sigrid whispered, her face flaming at the display.

Fili pressed his forehead against hers so he could whisper to her without risking someone overhearing them, a mischievous smirk on his face. “If you weren’t my best friend and I really was in love with you, that would have been the most arousing speech I’d ever heard and you’d be lucky if I didn’t throw you over my shoulder and carry you away to have my way with you, propriety be damned. As it stands, it was still pretty stimulating,” he confessed, his eyes flicking towards his waist.

If at all possible, Sigrid blushed darker as she looked resolutely at his face. “That was not my intent,” she whispered, mortified by her own words.

He laughed and kissed her again before returning to the same position. “Sigrid, you just staked your claim on me and Challenged the entire mountain to take me away from you. And in front of my uncle, brother, and mother no less. To dwarrow, there’s no way to be more forward.” He caught her hands and pulled them to his chest when she lifted them to hide her face. “None of that,” he ordered. “You must be proud of your words, not embarrassed by them, even if it’s not what you meant to do.”

“Can I go find a corner to curl up and die in now?” she asked. “My reputation will never recover from this.”

“You’re in Erebor,” he reminded her. “Your reputation has never been so untarnished as it is now.”

“Someone make sure they make it back to the markets!” Dwalin called from somewhere nearby. “Don’t want them sneaking off right now.”

Sigrid, who had just stood straight in an attempt to recover some dignity, groaned and placed her forehead in the crook of Fili’s neck and shoulder. “Da’s going to kill you when he finds out about that kiss,” she mumbled against his skin.

“He was there too. He already knows,” Fili said, wrapping his arms around her.

Sigrid moaned in despair. “Where we haven’t finished the wedding planning do I have to go into full mourning for you?”

“Are you always this way when you’re tired?” he chuckled and nudged her back upright, hoping to distract her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and started leading her back to the markets.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I am not fit company when I’m exhausted.”

“I like tired Sigrid,” he admitted. “She’s fun.” His grin stretched from ear to ear as he led her along. He dug into the pouch strapped at Sigrid’s waist near her hip and pulled out a bit of dried meat to feed to Magnus.

“I need tea,” she moaned and let him pull her.

After a much-needed cup of tea at the stall Dori had started and worked when he wasn’t busy with his duties as Guild Master for the weavers, they continued working, stopping long enough for Sigrid to get another three hours of sleep in the early hours of the morning while Fili once again consolidated their notes. When he woke her, they rushed back to the market. By then, anyone that hadn’t been present for her fight against Burfastr, now knew what had happened during the Challenge and after. Whispers and sighs of “so romantic” and the like followed them through the crowds as dwarrow young and old watched them with starry eyes. 

When lunchtime rolled around, they’d finished visiting all the guilds and most of the market stalls without further mishap. They met Bard and Kili for the meal. Sigrid tried desperately not to fall asleep in her food until Bombur brought her a cup of very strong tea at Fili’s request, naming a particular blend when asked. He also brought some chunks of ice wrapped in a towel for the dark bruise on her cheek from the slap the night before.

“It’s one of Dori’s blends,” he confessed when Sigrid glanced at him with raised eyes, gingerly pressing the towel against her purple and black cheek. The liquid warmed her from the inside out and cast away a lot of the exhaustion she felt. “He always gave it to us when we’d had a few hard nights sleeping on the road or spent the night running from orc or goblin hordes. It should keep you awake and alert until we can hand this to Balin.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid said, drinking the sweetened tea and finishing her meal. After saying goodbye to her father and returning the soggy towel to Bombur, she and Fili went back to the market to finish visiting the last few cobblers they hadn’t reached before they’d taken a break to meet Bard.

“Is that everyone?” Sigrid asked Fili as they turned away from the last merchant.

“Yes. Let’s head back to my workshop and we can make the final decisions. We’ll have to be quick. We’re running out of time.” He led the way. Soon, they reached his small domain and locked themselves inside. They sat on the stools in front of his workbench and started pouring over the notes, working together to make their final choices.

They didn’t argue, per se, but there was some in-depth discussion about the virtues of one vendor over another. On more than one occasion, Sigrid tapped the simple bracelet of chain and stars on her wrist with a forefinger, reminding Fili that they didn’t need to impress anyone. He would pause in his words, take in the subtle motion, sigh, shake his head, and cross off the merchant he had been suggesting they use due to opulence and extravagance in wares and not necessarily taste and merit. 

In turn, he would remind her that it was a royal wedding they were planning and frugality was not a necessity, that if she truly liked something, she could have it, that the wealth of Erebor was covering the costs. A few times, they ran back out to the market and guildhalls to be sure they were remembering something correctly. They chose foods that had ingredients that would need to be shipped in, including honey from Beorn’s bees for the cake Bombur had made for them and some of the flowers from the Shire Bilbo had told them he wouldn’t be able to grow in time or be able to grow in the mountain at all. Other small things would be decided later, the first of which would be the final design and colors of their clothing.

With less than an hour to spare, they hunted Balin down and handed him their final decisions. He grinned at the two of them.

“I saw you two at Master Dofeal’s stall on your first day,” the old dwarf said, tucking the parchment into his sleeve. “That was a very sweet moment. I’m happy for you both.” His eyes crinkled at the corners with the joy of his smile before he left them to finish filling in the contract.

“We’re finished,” Sigrid said with a relieved sigh. “May I go sleep now?”

“Afraid not,” Fili told her. “We have to go inform those we chose. Be ready for a lot of gratitude.”

“Please don’t let anyone bash heads with me,” she said, rubbing at a bruise on her forehead where an enthusiastic cobbler had knocked their heads (gently for a dwarf) when she’d complimented the boots he’d shown her. They’d left the stall soon after, Fili supporting her discretely while she walked off the dizziness. “I don’t think I can take another.”

He laughed, noted the guards standing nearby, and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I won’t let anyone harm that pretty face of yours again,” he said with a grin.

Sigrid covered her snort of laughter with a cough and allowed him to lead her back to the market. Eventually, she’d learn her way around the mountain, but, for now, she was content to stay with her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments! Please leave kudos! Please subscribe! Please give me prompts!
> 
> Happy reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili misses Fili.
> 
> Sigrid gets angry.
> 
> Fili leers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for a little time fudging in this chapter. Denethor is here, but he's about five years older than he should be, considering he would have been around thirteen years old according to Tolkien and I've made him about eighteen. Please forgive me!
> 
> You are all amazing! Thank you for the comments and kudos! I feel so loved.
> 
> Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, I have accomplished the impossible. I actually finished the entire first draft of this story. Entirely. It's done. Just needs some editing. So you all know it reaches a bit over 100,000 words and will be 23 chapters plus an epilogue so hang on for the long haul. We're about halfway finished, I think. As such, I will be posting twice a week now.
> 
> Which brings me to a question. Could you all please give me your opinions? I would like to write a companion piece or two for this. One would be Bagginshield the other Kiliel. I'm not sure which one to start with. I'm leaning toward Bagginshield though. That being said, if I do write a Bagginshield, where do I start? With the very beginning of the Hobbit (If I did, I might actually write it from Dwalin's point of view) or from the end of BotFA? Please let me know in your comments!
> 
> One last thing. I do plan on doing NaNoWriMo this year for an original work so I will not be writing through November on any Hobbit related projects. I will continue to post anything that is finished beforehand though. Just giving fair warning.

Chapter 13

Two days after the wedding contract was finalized most of which Sigrid slept, Bard and Sigrid left for Dale. Fili continued visiting on an almost daily basis. He personally told those at the Guard Post about Sigrid’s fight with Burfastr, bragging about his intended’s fighting prowess. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Sigrid did her best not to hide her face in her hands while the guards cheered and teased her in turn. They didn’t spend all their time at the Post though. They walked the markets as well, arm in arm and chatting away as they went.

Fili spent a lot of his spare time in his workshop when he wasn’t attending to his other duties or visiting Dale. He worked on designs and quick, cheap mockups of the jewelry for the wedding. He worked happily, thinking of Sigrid and what would look good on her. He hoped she liked something that he made. She was to return to Erebor in two weeks to go over designs and final plans for their clothing with Dori and Nori. Once the final design was chosen, their shoes and jewelry would be designed to match. He worked off the designs Dori and Nori had already created that won them the commission.

When he wasn’t making jewelry, he worked on his next courting gift for her. It was rather fiddly in the details but the work was satisfying and calming at the same time, perfect for when he found himself frustrated by his role as crown prince. He’d started it weeks before Sigrid had been in Erebor and he now had the time to finish it.

Kili found him as he was doing a final cleaning on the gift before placing it into the box he’d made to hold it.

“I feel like I barely see you anymore,” the younger prince said instead of greeting him properly. He pulled a stool up next to his workbench and sat without invitation.

“I’ve been here,” Fili said without looking up from his work.

Kili huffed. “Fee, I know she’s your intended and you love her and everything-” Fili looked up sharply, his eyebrows coming together in a scowl while he frowned “-but could you try to remember to spend some time with your family as well?”

Fili set down his cleaning cloth with a sigh, choosing to ignore the bait his little brother dangled with his comment about love. “Kee, don’t take this wrong, but she’s going to be family too.”

“Exactly. Have her come to the mountain instead of going to Dale. She should learn more about our home anyway, or did you forget she’ll live here too?”

Fili picked his cloth back up and went back to work. “You have a point,” he said. “I’ll talk to her about it when I see her tomorrow.”

Kili smiled at his brother and then looked down at what he worked on. “These are nice,” he said, picking one up and examining it, fingers running over the carvings.

“Think Sigrid will like them?”

The younger brother laughed. “I think she’ll love them. They’re rather personal though, don’t you think? For a second gift at least?”

Fili’s eyebrows rose. “What do you mean?”

Silver glinted in the lamplight when Kili turned it over and inspected the designs worked into the back. “This seems like the type of gift given by a lover or husband, not an intended. If it were me, I’d give them as the final gift, maybe even after the wedding.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Fili murmured, his fingers rubbing gently against it. “Then what do I give as a second gift?”

“Something that melds the gift you’ve already given and these,” Kili said. “Amad always said it was best to find balance between extremes in personality which seems to be what you need. You gave her knives so she could defend herself and now you’ve made her these as something you’ll use to cherish her. Find something to balance it out. Something that brings the warrior and the woman together.”

Fili examined the gifts for a moment and set it aside in its case as he thought. “There’s got to be something,” he murmured.

“I’ll leave you to figure that out,” Kili said, “but for now, come on. Amad wants us both there for dinner tonight. I’m not the only one that’s missed your ugly face.”

~*~*~

When Fili arrived at Sigrid’s house the next day, approximately two weeks after the wedding contract was signed, he was confused to see a young man standing on her doorstep and Sigrid talking to him, a scowl on her face. When she spotted him, a grin split her face.

“Ah, here he is now. This is my intended, Fili, son of Dis, nephew to the King Under the Mountain, Crown Prince of Erebor. Now, what was it you were saying about my prospects, Lord Denethor?” She smiled sweetly at the young man in front of her.

Fili bristled at the condescending look cast his way but pushed the feeling aside when Sigrid gave the sign they’d taught Magnus for ‘help.’ He walked up the path to Sigrid’s house and wrapped an arm around her. “Hello My Blossom,” he greeted her and stood on his toes to kiss her. She returned the motion easily and without any change to her color, a rarity but probably a result of irritation running through her and stiffening her posture in his arms instead of growing ease with physical affection. “You look lovely. Who’s your visitor?” He turned slightly, still keeping his arm around Sigrid’s waist.

“This is Denethor, Son of Ecthelion, Son of Turgon who is the Steward of Gondor.”

“What brings you to Dale, Denethor, Son of Ecthelion?” Fili asked in his best Bilbo-when-he’s-being-polite-but-wants-to-stab-someone-with-Sting voice.

“False information apparently,” the man said straightening his spine and casting an irritated glance at Sigrid.

“Yes, who did tell you I was open to seeing suitors?” she asked.

“A Master Peder sent word to Gondor of your eligibility.”

“Really?” Sigrid asked and Fili saw the sudden strain in her smile, “And when did you receive this message? Last fall I assume? Before the snows made the roads unpassable?”

“No, about three fortnights ago.”

“Is that so?” Sigrid ground out with a smile still on her face but a definite edge to her tone and an all but clenched jaw. “Well, I’m afraid you made your trip for nothing if your sole purpose was to seek my hand. As you can see, I’m quite happily courting. If there’s anything else the people of Dale can provide you, please feel free to ask around. I’m sure someone can direct you in the correct direction.”

“I’d like to speak to Lord Bard, if I may.”

Sigrid nodded. “He is currently indisposed but will be in City Hall after the one o’clock bell. Now, if you’ll please excuse us?” She turned slightly in Fili’s arm and he shifted to accommodate her new stance, lowering his arm and turning toward the house. He wrapped his other arm around her waist.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said over his shoulder with a smirk and stepped into the house. Sigrid closed the door behind them and he dropped his arm. She heaved a sigh of relief as he watched her with a raised eyebrow. “What was that about?” he asked.

“Some misguided soul thinking I was still on the market to be married off to someone else.”

“I gathered that,” Fili said. “Do I need to go challenge him to a duel over your honor or something? How does this work for humans?”

“I don't think so unless he tries something improper,” Sigrid said and moved to peak out of the window of the front sitting room. “Is he gone?”

“Looks like it,” Fili said, looking out the window as well.

“Good.” She sagged into the couch and patted the space next to her. Fili sat. “So, 'My Blossom' now, is it?” she asked with a bit of a snicker.

“Isn’t that a term of endearment you humans use?” Fili asked as he let go of the irritation he felt for the man.

Sigrid giggled. “Yes, but I never thought I’d hear it from your lips,” she admitted. She fluttered her lashes at him and splayed a hand across her chest just beneath her throat. “O My Brave, Strong Dwarf, you saved me from that lout,” she simpered.

Fili struggled to hold in a laugh as he took her other hand and adopted a soulful expression. “Dearest Blossom, I will always come to your aid should you ask it of me.” Sigrid fell against him as she laughed and he found himself leaning against her in his own humor.

When they’d calmed again, Sigrid stood up and headed for the door. “Enough of this. I have to go interrupt a council meeting to find out what possessed Peder when he sent out that message.”

“Shall I come with you?” he asked. He’d stayed at her house for brief times when she’d run errands before, happy to sit and work on projects or talk to Bain or Tilda. He’d even raided the family’s meager library once and enjoyed a quiet two hours reading while Sigrid dealt with some upset carpenters and bakers. How they came to be at odds with each other, he had no idea.

“You might as well come along. It concerns you as well.”

He nodded and followed her out the door. They walked the short distance to Dale’s City Hall and entered. Sigrid led the way to the room set aside for large meetings. She nodded to the guards standing outside and threw the doors open without any warning or preamble, sweeping inside with her chin high and an expression meant to make others feel small and insignificant. Quite frankly, she pulled the look off masterfully if he were being honest. Fili followed after offering a friendly grin to Captain Smytheson. The man returned it with a wink.

The men inside all turned to glare at the intrusion with the exception of Bard who looked relieved.

“Sigrid My Girl,” he said standing. “Is there something wrong?”

“Possibly,” she said and Fili casually let his hands rest on the hilts of his swords just in case someone took exception to his friend’s sudden interruption. “I need to speak to you and Master Peder immediately.”

Bard’s only indication of concern was a slight widening of his eyes and a blink as he shifted his gaze to a thin man around Sigrid’s height with straight red hair and brown eyes. He stood up and walked over to his daughter. “We’ll use my office,” Bard said and motioned to the redhead. Grumbling, the man stood and followed. Fili fell in behind Sigrid as her father led them to another room.

Bookshelves lined the walls but remained mostly empty. Scrolls filled what little space was taken on them. The desk sat beneath the only window and was covered in neat little piles of paper. The center of the room was taken up by a large table covered in an elaborate map of Dale with stone markers set all across it in varying colors. Sights of repair, Fili realized as he examined it.

Once the door was shut, Sigrid turned to the other man, Master Peder, and Fili tore his eyes away from the map. He’d study it later if Bard allowed him. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to watch Sigrid dress down a member of her father's council for all the jewels in Erebor.

“Master Peder, do you have any idea why Denethor, second in line for the stewardship of Gondor, would have shown up to my home this afternoon thinking I was open to receiving suitors?”

“I have no idea,” the man said. Fili watched him link his fingers behind his back, catching the slight tremor as they moved and the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He rolled his eyes. Could the man be a worse liar?

“Indeed?” Sigrid asked all sweetness again and Fili made note of the tone. He filed the sound away for future reference. If she ever used it on him, he would know he was in trouble and backtrack whatever he’d just said. “Because he claims you sent him a letter that arrived in Gondor about three fortnights ago. He said you sent the missive.”

“Oh, _that _letter,” Peder laughed, a bit nervously Fili thought. He relaxed watching with delight as his friend’s face set in a smile reminiscent of the one she’d worn when she’d beaten Burfastr over a week ago. “Yes, I sent it.”__

__Sigrid turned to her father. “Were you aware of this?” she asked._ _

__“I had no idea,” Bard said glaring at Peder. “Why would you do that Peder? Are you trying to cause trouble between us and Erebor or perhaps with Gondor?”_ _

__“I didn’t think-”_ _

__“Obviously considering His Highness was already paying court to me,” Sigrid snapped. “Prince Fili arrived at my house while Lord Denethor was trying to imply my marriage prospects would never be better than if I were to accept his hand. Can you imagine the insult to His Highness?”_ _

__Peder swallowed visibly and glanced over at Fili who immediately adopted the darkest glare he could muster while internally laughing in glee. “Your Highness, I-I didn’t me-mean any dis-dis-d-disre-disrespect,” he stammered shrinking away from him as he pulled a dagger from a sheath and ran his thumb along the flat of the blade near the edge._ _

__“Did you not?” Fili asked. “Then what was your intention in claiming my intended was available to be courted by another? Do you aim to instigate a war between our kingdoms?”_ _

__Any remaining blood drained from Peder’s face at the implied threat._ _

__Bard sighed from where he sat in the wooden chair at his desk, rubbing his forehead between his eyes. “Fili, stop scaring the poor fool,” he ordered._ _

__Sighing, Fili returned the knife to its proper place. “You ruin all sorts of fun Lord Bard,” he groused._ _

__“I’ll try to be more accommodating in future. Besides, Sigrid does a good enough job of it anyway.” Bard shot a fondly irritated look at him and he grinned widely in return. The man turned back to Peder. “You will write to Gondor and explain the misunderstanding. I don’t care to know your motivations. Just fix the problem. How many other such letters did you send?”_ _

__“A few?” Peder said and swallowed when Sigrid cursed mildly at him. “I’ll fix this! I promise.”_ _

__“Why did you do it in the first place?” Sigrid asked._ _

__Peder shook his head. “I thought I was doing you a favor, My Lady,” he said. “I didn’t think you really wanted to marry the prince, begging your pardon, Your Highness. I was trying to save you from a marriage you didn’t want.”_ _

__“You idiotic, hedge-born son of a warg’s-”_ _

__“Sigrid,” Bard warned and her mouth shut but not before a growl could escape her. Fili’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. He couldn’t remember Sigrid ever cursing in front of him. He wanted to know how creative she could be. It had sounded like she was building up quite the tirade. Turning to Peder, Bard said, “Lady Sigrid came with His Highness when he asked permission to court her. I can assure you that their match is based on mutual affection. Remember that the next time you feel the need to meddle.”_ _

__Fili nodded when Peder looked at him, not necessarily impressed at Bard’s ability in telling the truth without endangering their true intentions. Nori spun more detailed lies at the drop of an ax on a day to day basis, but Bard’s quick words were worth note in their craftiness. He would have to remember the former bargeman was a lot more intelligent than he seemed. No wonder the people of Dale looked to him for guidance. It wasn’t just because he had killed the dragon._ _

__“Return to the council,” Bard ordered. “I’ll be along shortly.”_ _

__Peder practically scrambled from the room and Fili barely managed to contain his laughter until the door closed. “Lord Bard, you seem to have your council under control. I see no reason to bring the incident any further.”_ _

__“Thank you, Prince Fili,” Bard said and turned to his daughter. “Did you need anything else My Girl?” he asked._ _

__“No Da. Thank you for letting me interrupt your meeting. You’ll be home for dinner?”_ _

__“Yes, I will. Feel free to interrupt as often as you can,” Bard said. “Those daft fools are just talking themselves in circles these days.” He sighed. “I better go try to accomplish something with them though.”_ _

__“A moment if you can spare it,” Fili said. Bard turned to look at him. “I’m not just here for myself,” he said. “I came to ask if I could bring Sigrid back to Erebor with me. Dori is ready to work with us on our clothing. He’ll want to do initial measurements and such. Mother would like her to stay a few days as well so she can get to know her. Uncle wants her to start learning her way around the mountain and its time she started her khuzdul lessons with Ori and her diplomatic lessons with Balin.”_ _

__Bard rubbed his face. “I feel like we just returned from the mountain and now you’re asking us to go back.”_ _

__“Da, I can go by myself,” Sigrid told him. “I’m sure there are plenty of appropriate chaperones in the mountain so you needn’t worry.”_ _

__Bard looked between the two of them and sighed. “All right,” he said, “but only because I know the truth of your relationship. Please don’t give anyone reason to talk though.”_ _

__“I won’t Da,” Sigrid said and hugged him._ _

__“When will you leave?” he asked Fili._ _

__“We can wait until this evening after you finish with your council,” he said. “I brought a new rotation of guards with me. I’ll be returning to the mountain with the contingent that has been relieved then.”_ _

__“I’ll see you tonight then,” Bard said and stood. He wrapped an arm around his daughter in a hug._ _

__“Thanks, Da,” Sigrid said. “Oh, and Lord Denethor will be coming to see you at the one o’clock bell.”_ _

__“I’m going to put an arrow through Peder if it’s about the letter he sent,” Bard groused but cast a smile at his daughter and Fili. “Go on,” he said. “Enjoy your day. I’ll see you at dinner.”_ _

__Fili and Sigrid left without further urging, headed for the Guard Post for some target practice with the throwing knives. He planned to show her how to throw them without a spin. The lesson promised to be entertaining._ _

__As Fili expected, Sigrid didn’t do so well with throwing a knife without spinning it. The throw was awkward and he got a good laugh at her attempts. She laughed right along with him each time she missed the targets._ _

__When they returned to the house, Sigrid left Fili to pack clothing that would last her for the few days she was to stay at the mountain. He sat down in the sitting room and worked on a thought he’d had that morning about a courting gift. He was trying to decide how many to make and in what colors and materials when Sigrid returned, a bag slung over her shoulder. She set it near the door and headed for the kitchen, muttering something about baking before she left. Fili followed with his parchment, quill, and ink bottle in hand._ _

__“Would you like a hand?” he asked as she started pulling jars and sacks from cupboards after tying an apron around her waist._ _

__She looked over her shoulder from where she stood on the tips of her toes to reach a top shelf in the cupboard. “Absolutely not,” she said and then smiled. “We’ve been observing a lot of dwarf courtship rules lately. I think we should add some from my people as well although we'll be fudging it quite a bit.” She pulled down a jar of what looked like candied citrus peel and went to work._ _

__Fili sat at the table and watched for a while as she started adding ingredients into large bowls. Her movements reminded him a bit of Bombur or Bilbo in the kitchen. All efficient movement and concentration. He wondered if he looked similar when he worked. He doubted it. Sigrid seemed so confident, never second-guessing what she was doing._ _

__She was quite pretty, for a human, he decided. Her hair shone in the sunlight with strands of copper amongst the hazelnut and dark honey colored tresses. The few freckles that smattered her nose increased a bit during the summer months when she spent more time under the sun. He had to admit that the blue-green of her eyes was a particular favorite shade of his. She was too tall and the lack of beard would probably always catch him off guard at odd moments, but still, she was pretty. Being married to her was looking like a better idea all the time the more he took the time to think about it. Now taking into account that she was attractive from an objective sense, it seemed like another benefit of the scheme._ _

__“While I was packing, I was thinking,” Sigrid said after a while, breaking into Fili’s musings as he watched her hips shift as she moved._ _

__“Dare I ask?” he interrupted, dragging his eyes to her head before she turned, and she gave him a dirty look. “Sorry, continue.”_ _

__“I was thinking about what you called me this morning.”_ _

__“Yes Blossom?” he crooned and she snorted._ _

__“Would you stop that? I’m trying to talk to you about something before I lose my nerve.”_ _

__“Yes, yes, sorry. Go on.” He propped his chin in the palms of his hands and smiled at her innocently. She laughed again and his grin stretched at his success._ _

__“Fili!”_ _

__“Yes My Blossom?”_ _

__She uttered a short, irritated cry and threw a hand towel at him. He caught it easily and motioned for her to continue, adopting a more serious expression._ _

__“That’s actually what I want to talk about,” she said. “Endearments.”_ _

__Fili made a face. “I think ‘My Blossom’ is out if we’re trying to be serious.”_ _

__“I agree,” Sigrid said. “I don’t know about dwarrow, but for humans, endearments are pretty much expected of a courting couple after a while. All things considering, I think someone is going to notice soon if we don’t have them.”_ _

__“You’re probably right,” Fili said. “What do you want me to call you?”_ _

__He watched her shoulders shrug up and down. “I have no idea. What will you call me?”_ _

__“I have no idea either,” he admitted. “Should we just test a few as we interact? See what each of us likes?”_ _

__“That’s as good a plan as any, I suppose,” she said. “Do you like apples?”_ _

__A memory flashed through his mind of being crammed into a barrel and dropped into a raging river with no company but the too strong stench of ripe apples._ _

__“I avoid them if I can,” he said feeling a bit nauseated._ _

__She pushed the few apples she’d had at her side away. “All right. Now what?” she murmured. He watched as her shoulders tensed and she leaned against the counter, drumming her fingernails absently as she thought. Her head tipped back as she looked at the cupboards before suddenly lunging toward one, opening it and digging around amongst the packages inside. “Ha! There is some left!” she crowed, pulling a bag down and opening. “How do you feel about cinnamon?”_ _

__“Cinnamon is fine. What are you making?”_ _

__“Bread,” she said. She set the little package aside and put the apples back in the basket that sat nearby before coming to sit next to him at the table. “What are you working on Sweetheart?” she asked with a grin._ _

__Fili laughed, tucking the parchment away. “Something for you Ghivashel.”_ _

__“What does that mean?”_ _

__“Treasure of all treasures. This is why you start lessons with Ori this week.”_ _

__~*~*~_ _

__After dinner that evening, Sigrid went back to her room to retrieve a few items she’d forgotten to pack, mostly her current embroidery project so she’d have something to do in the quiet evenings. Bard drew Fili aside and handed him a small box once she’d disappeared. “It’s not much compared to what you have in that mountain of yours,” the man said, “but she’ll appreciate it none the less.”_ _

__Fili looked inside at the simple golden band and gave Bard a questioning look. “Is there some significance to this?” he asked._ _

__“It was her mother’s. Her wedding ring.”_ _

__Fili smiled down at the simple metal circle. “It’s much more than anything in the mountain,” he said. “It is Memory of someone she loves that is gone.” He brushed absently at the betrothal beads in his own hair as a dim memory of a golden blond beard rubbing against his face teasingly accompanied by a deep baritone laugh accompanied by his own childish giggling protests flashed through his mind._ _

__“I hope it will bring you luck,” Bard said as Fili closed the box and carefully tucked it into his pocket. “Her mother and I were very happy for the short time we had together. I hope you will find such happiness together over time.”_ _

__Fili swallowed against something raw inside him, his own fears perhaps, his own hopes. She was his friend, his best friend, and he couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t do for her. He was planning to marry her for Mahal’s sake. In order to keep her safe from men that would harm her, to give her peace of mind, to let her live more of the life she wanted instead of what was expected. He hoped for the happiness Bard spoke about, that they would learn to love each other. But still, he was afraid that over time she would resent him for giving her this chance instead of letting her muddle along until she found someone she did love. Happiness seemed like such a stretch for them but he would fight for it. “Thank you,” Fili said, shoving his fear and doubts deep inside him. “I hope to find that happiness with her too.”_ _

__Bard nodded, sad and resigned at his words but with hope in the set of his shoulders. Sigrid walked into the room before he could say anything more._ _

__“Are you ready to go?” she asked, her bag now slung over her shoulder. Fili nodded and she turned to her dad, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbing a bundle off the counter. “By Da. I’ll be back in a few days.” She whistled for Magnus to follow her._ _

__Bard hugged her, blinking rapidly for a moment and clearing his throat. “Send a bird if you need anything,” he ordered and followed them to the front door. “Did you say goodbye to your brother and sister?”_ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Good girl.” He gave her another hug as Fili opened the door. She smiled and went outside. “Take care of her,” Bard ordered and Fili felt the undertone of his words from earlier laced beneath them._ _

__“I’ll do all I can,” Fili promised with a short bow. He took Sigrid’s bag and followed her down the path and to the road. They walked to the guard house arm in arm and were greeted by a cluster of dwarrow eager to return to the mountain. A young human guard approached, leading a pony and a horse along with him. He handed the reigns over to Fili who thanked him. He held out the horse’s reins to Sigrid as someone took her pack and added to the wagon that would follow the group carrying packs from the officers._ _

__She took a nervous step back, her eyes fixed on the animal. “Uh… Fili, Honey,” she added as an afterthought without taking her eyes off the brown ones that stared back at her, “I don’t know how to ride.” Her fingers went to dig into Magnus’ scruff._ _

__Fili blinked in surprise. “Why didn’t I realize that?” he wondered absently. He passed his own reins off for a moment and walked over to her. “Well, your lessons start now. We can’t have a future princess of Erebor walking all the way from Dale in the dark.” He showed her how to check the stirrup’s length, describing what he did as she walked her through it. “You’ll need to wear trousers from now on when we travel back and forth,” he told her quietly. “Do you have any with you?”_ _

__She nodded. “I didn’t know what I’d be doing in Erebor so I grabbed a pair of Bain’s, just in case.”_ _

__“Good. Go change into them now. We’ll wait. Just to warn you, I will probably stare at you when you come back. As I’ve never seen you in them, I think it’s probably how a besotted idiot would react. Kili stares a great deal at Tauriel at least.”_ _

__She snickered, hiding her smile under her hand as she ducked away into the barracks. She returned a short time later and Fili stared as he’d promised, letting his mouth hang open just barely and refusing to blink as he looked her over from head to toe. She did have nice legs, he admitted to himself, if a little long. He didn’t stop gaping until she stood right in front of him and planted her hands on her hips._ _

__“Was there something you wanted to say?” she asked him primly and laughed when he surged onto his toes and kissed her firmly on the lips. A few of the guards whistled and cheered as he dropped back to his heels._ _

__“Right,” he said. “Let’s get you up My Dear. This is your horse now. Name her if you like. She’s a gentle soul and shouldn’t give you any trouble. Now, toes in the stirrup,” he helped her, his eyes shifting up her leg again briefly before he made a show of shaking his head as if to clear thoughts away._ _

__“His Highness is going to have trouble sitting behind her,” Someone commented just loud enough for him to hear._ _

__He cast a glare over his shoulder. “Keep such remarks to yourself in the presence of your future queen,” he snapped. There was a shuffling of feet and a muttered apology. He nodded and turned back to Sigrid. “Grab the pommel,” he pointed at what he meant, “and try not to pull on it to get up there. It’s there to give you balance as you stand in the stirrup. Once you’re up, swing your other leg over, toes go in the other stirrup obviously, and try to keep your heels down. Let me know if you need help and I’ll give you a leg up. Are you ready?”_ _

__Sigrid nodded, face set in determined lines. She reached up, grabbed the pommel, hopped a little on her toes of the foot still on the ground, and then jumped. She swung her leg up and over the saddle, sitting a bit awkwardly as she tried to hook her toes into the stirrup. Once she succeeded, she wiggled around a bit until she seemed comfortable. Fili handed the reins to her._ _

__“Are you all right?” he asked._ _

__“I think so?” she said. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this.”_ _

__“We’re not going any faster than a walk. I’ll ride behind you. Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall. Mind moving this foot for a second?” he asked. She pulled her toes out of the stirrup. “I’m not quite as tall as you so you may have to help me a bit.” He stuck his toes into the stirrup, having to stretch pretty far to accomplish it, and pulled himself up until he stood on that leg. He twisted, slinging his other leg over the saddle. He couldn’t quite sit so he grabbed Sigrid’s shoulder and pushed himself up into place, his foot coming free as he did._ _

__He heard someone barking orders at the waiting dwarrow. Soon, they formed a column and he nodded at their captain. Fili reached down to the waiting guard and took the reins to his pony, grabbing the very end of them to act as a lead. “Put your foot back in the stirrup and give her a small nudge with your heels,” Fili said, Sigrid did as he ordered and the mare started walking forward. Fili’s pony followed obediently and he tied the reins onto a loop on Sigrid’s saddle. Magnus trotted along with them happy to be outside and getting some exercise._ _

__“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” he warned. She nodded and he did as he’d said. “Now, do you have any idea of what you’re doing?” She shook her head. “That’s all right. We’ll take it easy.” He peeked over her shoulder and started teaching her as they made their way to Erebor._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all your comments and kudos!
> 
> A last reminder to please let me know what you'd like me to write next (see note at the top of this chapter). I'll see you all again on Friday!
> 
> Happy reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili has a surprise.
> 
> Nori's seen a lot in his days.
> 
> Sigrid makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow this is a long chapter, almost 8,000 words! But I'm so excited for this chapter that I can't bring myself to break it up. I've hinted to a few of my commenters that this chapter is going to be one they enjoy. I hope you all do. Bring on the fluff! And Nori! Got to have a bit of Nori in there.
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments and kudos. You make my day every time I get a new one. Please keep them coming.

Chapter 14

The ride to Erebor that normally took Fili about an hour, took three considering they had to keep pace with the walking troops instead of trotting the majority of the way on his pony Onyx. When they reached the mountain, Fili swung down from the saddle first and then reached up to help Sigrid down. He steadied her when she wobbled on her feet.

“I don’t like riding,” she grumbled. “I’m sore in places I didn’t know could get sore.”

Fili grinned. “You’ll get used to it,” he said and handed the reins over to a stable hand before taking Sigrid’s bag from the saddle. “Come on, let’s get you settled. I have something to show you Khajimel.”

“Now?” Sigrid asked glancing towards the closing gates. “It’s rather late.”

“Trust me,” he said and took her hand, lacing their fingers together, “and before you ask, it means Gift of all gifts.” He led her and Magnus into the mountain, heading straight for the royal wing. To Sigrid’s surprise, and Fili’s, Dis waited for them at the entrance.

“Amad,” Fili said. “I didn’t think you’d still be awake.”

The dam smiled. “I had a feeling Lady Sigrid would feel more comfortable if there was someone to meet you here and act as chaperone.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Sigrid said. “I appreciate your consideration for my peoples’ traditions.” She took her bag off her shoulder and retrieved a cloth-wrapped bundle from the top. “Speaking of which, I have something for you.” She handed the object over to the dwarrowdam.

Dis pulled the cloth away to reveal a loaf of bread and she raised her eyes to Sigrid’s in question.

“One thing my people do when we enter a courtship is the women prove their ability to keep a good home for their intended by cooking for their future mother-in-law and other family members. It’s to appease any worry she may have that her son will not be well-fed once married. Normally, I would cook an entire meal but I wanted you to have a sample of my cooking as soon as possible. Next time you and your family come to Dale, I’ll cook a proper meal for you all.”

Dis sniffed the loaf with a smile. “Cinnamon,” she said and looked over at her son. “Did you tell her it’s my favorite?”

“I had no idea she was baking for you,” he admitted.

Dis turned back to the young woman, looking up at her face. “Please join me while I taste this after Fili shows you his surprise.” She accepted a quick hug from her son before urging him to continue, saying she’d stay out of the way. She continued to discretely sniff the loaf with a small smile on her face.

Fili continued on until he reached a door Sigrid hadn’t gone through before. He pushed it open and stepped aside so she could go in first. He retrieved a lantern and handed it to her so she could look around without difficulty.

Sigrid walked in and examined the place, Magnus trailing obediently behind her. The room was large, with plenty of floor space. There was a fireplace on one wall and doors that led into another room across from it. She walked around the room a moment and looked through the open doors to see another large, empty room. This one had doors on two more walls as well as another fireplace, this one larger than the last. The mantel was carved intricately with runes and designs showing stars and hammers and anvils and the mountain. She peaked through the only other open door to the room, finding a bathing chamber with a large pool set into the ground that steamed faintly and the water didn’t remain still, somehow churning slowly.

“Hot springs,” Fili said by way of explanation. “The water is always circulating so it’s always clean.”

“That sounds nice,” Sigrid said but turned to look fully at him. “I don’t understand though. Why am I here?”

Fili glanced back at his mother who nodded once and stepped out of the rooms, giving them a chance to talk in private. He indicated the door that was still shut on the other side of the room. “That leads to what is traditionally the King’s suite,” he said. “We are in the Queen’s. Uncle and Bilbo opted to keep Uncle’s old rooms from before Smaug instead of moving in here. Memories he doesn’t want to have and others he doesn’t want to lose, he said. So, as the next in line for the throne, these rooms are mine and my wife’s by default.”

“Mine,” Sigrid said, looking around again, panic marring her expression.

“Yes, yours.” Fili folded his legs underneath him and sat fluidly. He motioned for her to sit as well. Once they both settled on the floor facing each other, he reached out and took her hands as Magnus settled at their sides, pressing his bulk against their legs. “Normally, we would wait until we worked through the marriage contract before we’d discuss where we would stay once we’re married, but I’ll admit we’re not going to have much of a choice in the matter. It’s either these rooms or the ones I share with my mother and Kili and I’m pretty sure you don’t want that.”

“No, not at all,” Sigrid said as a blush chased its way across her cheeks.

Fili smirked a bit, but even he could feel the tension of the untouched subject lining his face and shoulders. They’d have to talk about that soon. “That being the case, I wanted you to have time, as much time as possible, to get used to the idea of living here with rooms connected to mine. I will remain in my current rooms until after the wedding but any time you are in the mountain without your family, you may stay here. You are welcome to stay here when your family is in the mountain as well by yourself if you wish.”

She looked around pointedly. “It’s lacking a bit in necessities,” she remarked.

“After we see Dori tomorrow we will go to the Carpenters Guild and choose someone to commission for your furniture. You can design your rooms to have whatever you want in them.”

“Are your rooms already furnished?”

“Yes, but don’t feel as if you have to match your taste to mine. That door,” he jerked a thumb at the one that led to the king’s rooms, “will remain closed unless you open it. Do you understand? The door will remain locked and only you will have the key.”

“May I see them?” Sigrid asked quietly.

In answer, Fili stood and helped her to her feet as well. He reached into his pocket and pressed a large key into her palm. “Don’t lose that,” he said with a grin. She nodded and went to the door. She unlocked it and stepped through. Magnus immediately trotted past, nose to the ground as he explored the furnishings.

What she found somewhat surprised Sigrid. The rooms were obviously not lived in yet, lacking as they were in personal items, but they looked comfortable in a way she hadn’t expected entirely. There was a rack off to one side that would contain weapons, but it wasn’t nearly as large as she’d expected it to be, considering the number of blades she knew Fili carried and the few that she guessed. The rest of the furniture was smooth lines and easy curves. She’d expected harsher edges like most of the designs she found in the mountain and embroidered into Fili’s clothing and etched into his weapons. The bed was smaller than she expected for some reason, made for a single person. She immediately tore her eyes away, looking down as her fingers lifted to fiddle with the braid hanging near her ear. She didn’t want to examine why she’d expected him to have a bed large enough for two people.

She shifted her attention to the colors draped around the room, somewhat surprised to find browns and reds instead of the blue his family seemed to favor. She’d heard someone call it Durin Blue and wondered if it was the royal color. If that were the case, she could see why Fili chose something different for his personal quarters.

“How long did it take you to decide?” She asked as she examined the large writing desk.

“A few hours, but I’m not too picky about this kind of thing,” he said. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” she said. “Warm, inviting.”

Fili smiled. “I’m glad you like it. You’re welcome in here any time you want for whatever reason. For now, though, I think it’s time we got you settled into your rooms for your current stay. As you said, it is late and we have a lot to accomplish tomorrow.”

Sigrid nodded and followed him out of what would soon be his rooms. She locked the door behind her and put the key into her pocket. She’d find a more secure location for it later.

Dis waited for them out in the hall. “I’ve asked for Bombur to send up some tea while we try this,” she said and they turned towards the rooms she shared with her sons. Kili found them as the door shut behind Fili.

“Lady Sigrid!” the younger prince said happily. “Welcome back!”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Sigrid said and took the seat at the table when Fili indicated it for her. Magnus trotted over to the fireplace and flopped down on the rug in front of it.

“What’s that?” Kili asked as he went to see what his mother placed on a cutting board that had been brought up with the tea already set on the table. He bent over and gave it a good sniff. “Cinnamon! Yum! Can I have some?” He gave his mother a pleading, puppy-dog-eyed look.

Dis didn’t even glance at him as she cut into the loaf. A perfect swirl of dark cinnamon appeared in the paler bread and the smell became stronger. “That look doesn’t work on me. You should know that by now,” she said. “Lady Sigrid made me a loaf of cinnamon bread as part of her people’s courting traditions.” Once she’d dished up enough for everyone there and Sigrid had poured the tea, the dwarrowdam took her seat and bit into the bread without preamble. She gave a pleased hum and took another bite and another. The entire slice was gone quickly and she reached for the knife to cut another piece of bread. “If all of your cooking is half as good as this, you have my approval,” she said.

Kili, who’d been too intrigued by his mother’s reaction to the bread to try his own yet, finally bit into his slice which then disappeared into his mouth in record time. “I don’t know Amad. She may need to make this a few more times before we can approve it.”

Sigrid hid a smile behind her teacup and watched Fili from the corner of her eye. He’d finished his first slice as well, pleased little sighs escaping as he chewed. “May I have another slice Amad?” he asked when she went to cut a third slice.

“Me too! Me too!” Kili pleaded.

“I think you’re going to have to give Bombur your recipe or they’re just going to show up on your doorstep every day demanding a loaf,” Dis told Sigrid as she cut more bread for the boys. “I may just join them.”

“I’d be happy to,” Sigrid said with a smile.

Fili kissed Sigrid goodnight half an hour later after most of the loaf of cinnamon bread had been devoured and he and Dis led her back to her rooms. He lingered for a moment against her lips as Magnus walked past him into the now familiar rooms.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he promised and followed his mother away. Sigrid turned into the rooms, feeling a bit odd to be there alone without her father at least. She readied for bed, trying to ignore the utter silence around her and to not think of the taste of cinnamon on Fili’s lips.

~*~*~

Dis followed Fili into his rooms without any explanation. When they arrived, she closed the door behind her as he started divesting himself of his many weapons. He waited for her to speak as he did so, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you sure you love her?” Dis asked.

Fili paused in his motions, a knife in one hand. He carefully set it down. “Why do you ask?”

Her lips thinned as she watched him closely. He could feel the weight of her stare on the side of his face. “You’re fond of her, that much I can tell, but you lack the passion I felt for your father.”

“He was your One and one of your own people,” Fili reminded her. “Sigrid isn’t my One, and she’s human. We’re struggling, trying to figure out how to mold our cultures, especially when I’m not allowed to tell her most things yet.” He made sure his tone was irritated, trying to deflect his mother’s attention away from her initial question. He did not want to outright lie to the dwarrowdam. He didn’t know if he could bring himself to do so. He and Kili, no matter what they’d done in their lives, had never lied to her. They may have omitted the truth, but they’d never lied. He knew he currently walked a thin line on that matter.

“I’ve been talking to Thorin about that,” she said. “I’m wearing him down. You’ll be able to tell her everything soon. As long as you’re sure you want to marry her.”

“I do,” Fili said, truth ringing in his words. “She may not be my One, but she is who I want to marry. Is that so very hard to believe?”

“I’m the last dwarf in this mountain you need to convince of that fact.”

“You had your One in Adad. I remember what it did to you when he died before you realized you carried Kili.” He shoved away the memories of clinging to Thorin as a four-year-old, afraid his mother would waste away from grief as he tried to understand that his father would never come home to them. Her grief had turned to determination and a depth of sorrow he couldn’t understand once she’d realized she was with child. It was a little better than the shell of a dwarf he’d been witnessing for a few weeks. Still, he’d clung to Thorin for months, waiting for his mother to return to him. Part of her never did. “I’m not sure I could ever bear such loss.”

“Just because she is not your One does not mean you wouldn’t feel her loss just as keenly as I felt Vili’s. I just want you to be sure that you love her. I have no objection to her, especially her cooking skills.”

“Why is that?” Fili asked as he set aside one final knife. “Uncle interrogated me for hours after she beat Dwalin. You have been surprisingly accepting of my courting a woman, let alone of Kili courting a she-elf.”

“I can’t argue with Kili finding his One,” she said. “I may not like what she is, but she is his One and she makes him happy and to keep them apart would be far too cruel, especially for a mother. If Sigrid is truly who you want, I can’t stand in the way of that either. You could marry that pointy-eared princeling that helped take back the mountain and I would be content as long as he was what you wanted.”

Fili’s hand went to the little box that Bard gave him and the words of hope that accompanied them. “I want to bring her happiness too,” he confessed to his mother. “I think that if I can truly make her happy, I will be happy too. That seems to be the case so far.”  
Dis’s answering smile was more content than Fili thought he’d ever see on her again. “Then I wish you joy as I had with Vili.”

~*~*~

Fili and Kili joined Sigrid the next morning and led her and Magnus to breakfast with the Company. She sat between her best friend and Tauriel and the two girls spent much of the meal chatting. Fili felt a bit of tension ease inside him as he noted the two getting along so well. He already knew Sigrid liked Kili and seemed to get along well with the elf. For her to seem to genuinely like Kili’s intended was a blessing he would not ignore. Life would be more enjoyable and less change if the four could get along. He dreaded the idea of someone in what he thought of as their little group not getting along. He didn’t want to be separated from his little brother more than he had to be.

“Do you remember how to get to the Weaver’s Guild?” he asked Sigrid as they started down the hallway after the meal.

“I haven’t the faintest idea on how to get anywhere,” Sigrid admitted, her fingers brushing along Magnus’ head. “I may need a map to study.”

Fili grinned and pointed to a mark on the wall. “See the seven stars? That signifies the area is for the line of Durin and those they invite only. So currently, that would be my family and the Company as well as Tauriel and you. There are guards, obviously, but only Dwalin’s most trusted are allowed to guard these halls. Now, to get to the Weavers guild, we must head towards the markets which are to the north of the royal wing and down on the ground floor.”

He led her along, showing her different markings in the walls. Sigrid did her best to remember them but was soon lost again.

“You’ll learn,” Fili promised as he opened the door to the Weaver’s Guild. Dori spotted them immediately and pulled them into his office where sketches covered every available surface of the room. Sigrid looked around, a bit overwhelmed by the variety.  
“Would you care for a cup of tea before we start?” the older dwarf asked. When Sigrid and Fili declined he smiled and produced a tape measure from a pocket. “Then would you please step up here, My Lady?” he asked motioning to a low platform. After ordering Magnus to lay down near the table, she did as he asked and blinked as he quickly started taking her measurements. At one point, he and Fili both left the room as a young dwarrowdam entered to take Sigrid’s measurements without clothes in the way. At the same time, Dori led Fili into another room to measure him as well. Finally, they returned to Dori’s office when Sigrid was once again dressed. Dori looked over the measurements he’d been given then started rummaging through the sketches around the room.

“These will not work,” he explained as he set a stack of sketches aside and out of the way. He gathered the rest of the sketches up and brought them over to the table where Sigrid and Fili now sat with cups of tea close at hand. “Let’s have a look through these and you can let me know what style you like best My Lady.” He handed the stack to her. “Don’t worry about sparing my feelings on any of them. I made many designs in hopes that some would appeal to you.”

Fili leaned back in his chair and watched as Sigrid flipped through the pages over the next half hour. She made two piles. Once finished, she handed Dori the first pile. “I don’t like these at all,” she said and then handed the second pile to Fili. “I like these but let’s go through them together and get rid of the ones you don’t like.”

He started through the stack, slower than Sigrid. Each sketch showed two sets of clothing from the front, side, and back. There were no embellishments, just the clothing itself. He made his own two stacks and handed the first one to Dori. “Not these,” he said and stood. He carried the remaining sketches to Sigrid and set them in front of her. He placed a hand on the back of her chair and another on the table near her teacup. “Let’s look at these together,” he said, brushing his nose along the side of her head, lips ghosting against her hair. She turned her face up toward him to accept a quick kiss.

Dori sighed wistfully before busying himself with filing the drawings they’d rejected away when Fili glanced up at him. Once the older dwarf’s back was turned, Fili winked at Sigrid and leaned down so his face was level with hers as she spread about ten sketches out in front of them.

They narrowed it down to three within another half an hour.

“Can we bring Master Nori in on the discussion now?” Sigrid asked. “I’d like to see what ideas he has for each of these designs before we decide.”

Dori nodded and disappeared to find his younger brother. 

“You all right Sigrid?” Fili asked, standing straight again.

She smiled at him. “Yes. Are you?”

He smiled. “I’m well. Once we finish here, do you want to take a break? Or we could try to make a few more decisions, visit the cobbler and such.”

“I’d rather visit the jeweler’s workshop,” she said with a grin. “Can we do that or is it considered scandalous? I know it would be in Dale. Even us being alone here would be inappropriate.”

Fili grinned. “Whatever you desire, Mizim. Where I am to be our jeweler, I would be trusted to act within the official capacity of my position. No one will judge us to be inappropriate while in my workshop. If it will ease your mind, we can leave the door open.” Hearing what sounded like Dori admonishing Nori to behave at the far end of the hall, Fili leaned in close to Sigrid. “They’re on their way back,” he said. “I’m going to kiss you now. Think we can make them believe we were enjoying a rather private moment?”

“I think so,” Sigrid said as she reached up and grabbed the front of his tunic and pulled him down. With a grin, he placed his hand on the bare column of her throat, his thumb under her chin to tilt her face toward his and his fingers barely brushed against the skin around the side of her throat and the tips brushing into the loose strands of her hair under the customary knot at her nape. He pressed his lips to hers and slid his other hand down her back. She arched toward him as his fingers ghosted down her spine and something about the kiss changed. 

A strange but pleasant heat flared under his skin where they touched and he found himself deepening the kiss. He pressed closer to her, forcing her to stretch a little more to keep in contact with him. He opened his mouth and carefully, tentatively licked at her bottom lip. She released a breathy sigh, her own mouth opening slightly in helpless reaction and he shamelessly took advantage, licking at her lip again and then nibbling it before sweeping his tongue into her mouth. Dimly, he felt her hand slide up his arm to curve around the back of his shoulder, fingers finding their way into the ends of his hair and twisting it around until it tugged deliciously at his scalp. The exploratory shift of her tongue against his drew a growl from his throat. He ran his tongue along the back of her teeth, prepared to explore her mouth to the fullest while he had the chance. He felt her slide the flat of her tongue to the underside of his and he locked the muscles in his throat to keep back a groan.

“You’re right, Brother. They do seem eager to see my designs.”

Fili jerked back from Sigrid, feeling as if someone just dumped ice down his spine. He looked down at the young woman only to see her burying her face in her hands, what skin he could see of her face and ears blazing red in embarrassment. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened for a brief moment before turning to their interruption.

“Nori,” he greeted. “You’re timing is horrible.”

Nori released a bark of laughter as a scandalized splutter escaped Dori. Sigrid just wrapped her arms around her head and hid her face against the table.

“We can leave if you like,” Nori offered, taking his brother’s arm and turning away.

“Don’t bother,” Fili sighed. “The moment’s gone.” He sprawled into the chair next to Sigrid and placed a hand against her back. He felt little tremors of silent laughter travel through her.

“If you say so,” Nori said and took a seat at the table on Sigrid’s other side. “Buck up, lass. Nothing I haven’t seen going on before. Fairly mild in comparison actually.”

Sigrid lifted her head, scrubbing at her face before turning her gaze on Nori. “I’m afraid being embarrassed is just a side effect of being raised to treat physical affection as a very private matter.”

“Sounds boring,” Nori drawled.

“Maybe for some,” Dori sniffed. “Shall we return to the purpose of our gathering please?”

Fili chuckled at the wink Nori sent Sigrid and her answering blushing grin. They bent back over the papers, now with Nori quickly sketching designs and pointing out bits and pieces of the sketches Dori had made. Finally, they settled on one of the sketches and the embroidery Nori suggested.

“You going to kill another wolf for his coat?” Nori asked and was rewarded with Sigrid’s laugh.

“No, I think not. I’ll let the expert provide the correct materials.” She gave a quick nod, looking at Dori.

“That will depend. What colors would you like for the clothing?” Dori asked. He went over to another chest, pulling out samples upon samples of material in various colors. “Nori, get your threads.”

“Colors?” Sigrid asked looking down at the sketch they’d settled on, as comprehension crossed her features. “Do dwarrow wear colors for their weddings?”

“Did I forget to mention that?” Fili asked with a mischievous smirk. “I apologize. Yes, we wear colors, even the women.”

Sigrid grinned widely. “I would love to have color in my wedding dress,” she breathed, her fingers now touching the drawn skirt of the gown.

“One should be Durin Blue,” Fili said, tapping a finger against the table. Dori immediately shifted through the materials, pulling a few out that were all the same deep shade. He then started pulling out others that would complement it.

“This,” Sigrid said, pulling out a deep red. She turned her eyes to Fili. “Please?” she asked, hope shining.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I can’t deny you anything when you look at me like that.”

“And there goes the rest of Fili’s chances to make decisions in that relationship,” Nori quipped.

“They’re lovely colors,” Dori said and, from the indignant yelp, kicked Nori in the shin under the table. They spent the next few minutes deciding which parts of the clothing would be which colors and what colors would be used for the embroidery. They finalized the designs and Fili accepted copies Nori and Dori handed him so he could make a more thorough attempt at the jewelry and to also show the cobbler. Though Fili planned to wear his boots, Sigrid would need something that suited her people’s style a bit more and made to fit her feet. 

Dori had really done a wonderful job melding the two cultures in the sketch. He’d layered their clothing in typical dwarfish fashion but lightened up the materials for Sigrid’s dress, removing the sleeves and shortening what would have traditionally been a long tunic in Durin Blue. The sleeves on the dress itself would fit her tight like human fashion but would remain that way down her wrists to cover the backs of her hands, all of which would be a pristine white to hopefully appease some of the human traditionalists. The shoulders would have extra fabric that would sit in careful folds to imitate some of the ruffles typical of her clothing without being in the way. Soft grey trousers would cover her legs, preserving her modesty for some of the wilder dances they would join during the wedding party as well as in the ceremony itself. Her skirts would be full and thick in the deep red she’d been so eager to wear. She’d petitioned to have the top of her dress be red as well but had conceded to Dori’s attempts to appease her people’s traditions of the bride wearing white. Instead, they decided to ask the cobbler to make her a pair of dainty leather shoes in the same deep red. Nori would embroider everything with gold, pink, and a blue-grey that would barely show against the white.

Fili’s clothing would be similar to what he already wore, a long Durin blue tunic, red coat, and a shirt and trousers of a slightly darker grey tinted with red than Sigrid’s trousers. Dori promised to match the fur to his coat to the rest of it and everything would be embroidered much more heavily that Sigrid’s clothing in gold and silver threads.

“I finally can make myself a new coronet,” Fili said happily as they left the weaver’s guild arm in arm. When Sigrid didn’t respond, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and then stopped walking. “Sigrid? Are you all right?”

She’d gone pale. “I’m fine,” she managed but refused to look him in the eye.

“Sigrid? What is it?”

She glanced around furtively. “Your comment just caught me off guard is all,” she admitted once she ascertained no one was within hearing distance.

He thought about it for a moment. “Is this about the coronet?” he asked. She nodded. “I can make you something more discreet if you like. A circlet perhaps? You don’t have to wear something so heavy or blatantly proclaiming royalty. Would you prefer that?”

“I would,” she admitted. “Is that strange? I’ll be crowned Princess of Dale in a matter of weeks and one of the worst parts of it all is that I can’t bear the idea of wearing a heavy crown, as if the weight of it and all it represents will crush me and all will know that I’m just a simple bargeman’s daughter, not a princess worth their attention?”

“You are worth anyone’s attention,” he told her fervently, taking both her hands. “Others may not be worth yours, but you are worth theirs. Never doubt what you do, the work you do, and the goodness that results from it.”

“I never thought I’d be so important,” she confessed as they started walking again. “To think my largest dreams used to be to never be noticed by the Master of Laketown.”

Fili snorted. “Now that is a man not worth your attention,” he said cheerfully. “He and his lackey were absolutely ridiculous and cowardly.”

“They were, weren’t they?” Sigrid asked with a giggle. She kissed his cheek suddenly.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Thank you for being understanding,” she said.

“I will always do my best to understand,” he promised. They lapsed into silence until they reached his workshop. Once inside, Sigrid sat on the couch without preamble, scratching at Magnus’ ears when he rested his head on her legs.

“Good boy,” she murmured and Fili just watched them for a moment. A sudden contentment settled over him watching the scene. If his days were like this after they married-full of companionable conversation, smooth teamwork with honest discussion as they made decisions, and quiet moments-he suspected he would be happy with his choice. Being with Sigrid was easy and comfortable.

“So what have you to show me Master Jeweler?” Sigrid asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

He went to his bench and started pulling out some of the mockups he’d made and they went to work, discussing some of his plans and working together to design her circlet and some of the other jewelry. He managed to convince her to wear something a bit larger than her usual taste for a necklace when he showed her three princess-cut diamonds, the smallest of which was probably the length of the first joint in her thumb and the largest about twice that length. He showed her a few chains he’d designed to hold them and they soon settled on a double chain that would join where he hung the three stones in a cluster, the two smaller on each side of the larger. Smaller strings of chain would cross back and forth along the two large main chains and he planned to add topaz into to the two main chains.

The necklace would be the heaviest piece he planned for her now that he knew she wanted a light crown. He showed her some various simple rings he thought she’d like. She chose one with a ruby to match her skirts set in silver. He was a bit surprised when she picked a pair of ear cuffs with two chains could attach to a pair of earrings. She promised to have a pair of earrings ready, something of her mother’s, she’d said, that would help take care of another human tradition. Together, they designed her circlet, choosing to make it of mithril on Fili’s insistence, stringing small diamonds along it in a straight line with small loops of gold connecting the stones. It was so delicate that most of it would be easily hidden within her hair.

For Fili, they chose rings of silver and gold with sapphire and ruby stones, the bands carved and intricate in design but all made of the same material. He refused any other jewelry and together they worked on his crown. He’d made a few mockups of those as well. Sigrid agreed with him when he admitted liking the one that mirrored some of the design of his uncle’s crown, but with more subdued angles and made of silver, gold, and a bit of mithril. He would wear it in a way that it too would be partially covered by his hair. He showed her a few golden ear cuffs and they worked on a design he would work into both his and hers to make a matching set they could wear to other official parties in the future.

They finished with about a half an hour to go before they were expected to meet Dis for lunch.

“What would you like to do now?” he asked once he told her their time frame.

“Honestly? If it’s at all possible, I’d like to talk to Tauriel.”

“I think that can be arranged. Let’s go find her.”

Sigrid hesitated, her hand on Magnus’ head, her fingers scrubbing at his ears and at that moment, Fili realized it was a bit of a nervous habit with her. She tended to reach for her dog when she was unsure of something.

“Whatever you want, you just have to ask,” he reminded her. “I won’t judge.”

“Can I talk to Tauriel alone?” Sigrid blurted out and winced. “I’m sorry,” she added hurriedly. “It’s just, I need someone to talk to about certain things and I don’t know any girls my age that I’m willing to talk to and-”

“Sigrid, it’s fine. We talked about this, remember?”

She sighed in relief and nodded.

“Come on. Let’s go find her.” He offered his arm and they left his workshop, Magnus padding along with them.

Tauriel and Kili were at the archery range, the first place Fili tried to find them luckily. After watching the elf beat the dwarf in a quick competition, they split up, the brothers picking up swords to spar while Tauriel and Sigrid went over to a set of stands next to the ring where the brothers fought. No one else was around them.

“Everything all right Brother?” Kili asked as he darted in to swipe at Fili’s side.

Fili blocked the shot and waived a hand to stop the match. He led Kili over to the side where benches were placed for fighters to rest between bouts. He glanced at where Sigrid talked to Tauriel on the other side of the ring before speaking.

“Something strange happened today,” he admitted and then told Kili about the kisses he and Sigrid had shared in Dori’s office. “I’ve never felt like that before,” he finished.

“Like what?” Kili asked, stretching his legs out in front of him and lounging back on the bench, the picture of ease as he watched Tauriel laugh at something Sigrid said. The elf looked across the ring at them and he caught her gaze, giving a wink and a wicked grin.

“Like I would have gladly continued if Nori and Dori hadn’t returned, taking whatever affection Sigrid would allow. Like I wanted to quite literally kick them back out when they did interrupt.”

Kili laughed at the growl in his brother’s voice. “I’d love to see you try to throw Dori out of his own office, especially when propriety is being ignored.”

Fili punched him hard in the shoulder. “You’re not helping,” he grumbled. “This is mortifying enough that I have to go to my younger brother for this. Just help me figure out what’s happening.”

Still chuckling, Kili said, “It could be a couple things. You’re sure she’s not your One?”

Fili rolled his eyes. “We’ve been over this. No Longing. No One.”

“Not everyone that finds their One has the Longing,” Kili reminded him, “but if you’re sure she’s not, I’d say you’re in love with her.”

Fili cast a deadpan look at his brother. “She’s my friend. You know that.”

“And friends can’t fall in love,” Kili scoffed. “Think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about,” Fili snapped. “She’s my friend. Nothing more.”

“Really? Why can’t you stop staring at her?”

“I’m just keeping my eye on her, not staring. She doesn’t know her way around the mountain.”

“And how often do you think about her?”

“I don’t know. Daily maybe?”

“Hourly when we’re wrangled into boring council meetings I’d say, considering the dopy smile you get on your face when you think no one is paying attention to you.”

“I do not get a dopy smile.”

“So you do think about her though.”

“Fine, yes, but I spend time with her almost every day. Isn’t it normal to think about someone that much when you see them that often?”

“Do you think about me that much?”

“Usually in despair of your stupidity.”

Kili shoved his brother. “And the days you don’t see her you mope and brood as much as Uncle.”

“I don’t brood,” Fili growled. Kili scoffed.

“You really do. And you mope.”

Fili shoved him off the bench. Kili just climbed back on without comment. “Do you want her to be happy?”

Fili cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m marrying her so she doesn’t have to worry about possibly abusive and generally really idiotic suitors anymore. What do you think?”

Kili nodded. “One last thing. Say her name.”

“Kee this is ridiculous. Why?”

“Just say it.”

“Kee-”

“Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say it. Say-”

“All right! Stop!”

Kili watched him expectantly with an innocent grin.

“Sigrid.”

“You’re in love with her,” Kili said and leaned back on the bench, eyes shifting over to where the girls sat again.

“I am not.”

Kili rolled his eyes. “What else could it be? Lust? You don’t care about another’s happiness that much or smile every time you say their name or think about them constantly when you’re only lusting after them.”

Fili looked at Sigrid and thought for a while, about what he’d felt during the kiss, about what he felt about her at all other times. “I don’t think it’s love,” he repeated. “I’m comfortable with her, yes, but she’s still just my friend.”

“Who happens to be a good kisser,” Kili said.

“Exactly.”

“And that you think about all the time.”

“Yes.”

“And you can’t say her name without grinning.”

“I don’t smile every time I say her name.”

“Say it.”

Fili scowled. “Sigrid.”

“You still smiled,” Kili smirked.

Fili threw his hands in the air. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Just that you love her.”

With an irritated growl, Fili tackled his brother off the bench. A wrestling match ensued, quickly ending when the older brother pinned the younger beneath him and sat on him.

“Fine, fine. Then it was probably lust. Keep it under control and you won’t have any problems. As long as she experiences similar things you won’t have any trouble on your wedding night.” Kili wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Fili choked on his spit before punching his brother in the shoulder. “Please don’t talk about that,” he implored. “I still haven’t come to terms with, with, that. I don’t even think I can touch the subject with a ten-foot ax shaft with her.”

“You’re going to have to,” Kili said. “You’re expected to at least try to produce an heir with her, whether you love her or not.”

“I’m aware,” Fili groaned and peeked again at the young woman that would be his wife come Durin’s Day in a few months. Kili just laughed at him before twisting suddenly and freeing himself so they could resume their wrestling match.

~*~*~

Sigrid and Tauriel watched as their princes walked away from the ring, a strangely serious look on Fili’s face as he talked to his brother.

“What is bothering you?” Tauriel asked, sitting straight-backed on the bleacher bench they’d chosen halfway up the stands.

Sigrid ran a hand along the top of her head and then down her neck before resting her chin on the side of her hand as she looked away from Tauriel. “Can I ask you some questions?” she asked quietly. “I don’t know who else to talk to.”

“Not your mother or human friends?” Tauriel asked gently.

“My mother died when I was young and the few girls near my age in Dale are not the type I would want to talk to about this. Too open to gossiping about anyone and everyone, including each other.”

“I see,” Tauriel said with a gentle smile. “You may speak to me and be assured I will tell no one, not even Kili if you wish it.”

Sigrid sighed in relief, giving her a look full of gratitude. “Thank you,” she said fervently. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I have some idea,” Tauriel admitted. “I too lack a friend I can speak to about certain private matters.” Her eyes flicked over to Kili briefly. “It will be a relief to talk to another female.” She patted Sigrid’s hand. “Come, tell me of your concerns.”

Blushing, Sigrid told Tauriel about the way she’d reacted to the first time Fili had kissed her, the way it felt like her skin had tightened across her chest and how her stomach flipped, dropped, and tumbled. She continued with some other, similar sensations she’d felt when he’d paid particular attention to her when they’d first held hands and it had produced the same swooping feeling in her abdomen among other moments, and then the kiss earlier that day just before Nori had interrupted them. “I’d thought I was getting used to being kissed publicly,” she said, “but that was so very different and I’m not sure why. All right, I do know why but not why the response was so strong.”

“Why was it different?” Tauriel asked and noted how Sigrid’s blush deepened. She laughed. “I’m sure whatever happened isn’t going to scandalize me. Remember, I’ve lived for hundreds of years. I’ve had a great deal of time to walk in on private moments.”

So Sigrid told her, about the way she’d longed to be closer to Fili when he’d pressed his hand to her lower back, the way she’d had that same strange sensation in her breasts as her first kiss with him, and then how mortifyingly good it had felt when he’d licked his way into her mouth and how much she’d liked the taste of the tea on his tongue. When she finished with her frustration at Nori and Dori for their intrusion, Tauriel looked over at the princes. Sigrid followed her gaze in time to see Kili wink and grin wickedly at the she-elf who smiled sweetly in return. She shifted her eyes to Fili who luckily didn’t turn to look at them. She didn’t know how she’d feel if he saw the blush staining her cheeks.

“My Lady-”

“If we are to be the type of friends that share such things, I’d prefer it if you called me Sigrid.”

“Sigrid then. Kili has told me the truth of your courtship with Fili so I know you don’t love him. I hope you don’t mind my knowing. What you’ve felt is probably normal, physical response to intimacy from someone you find attractive and trust, that you find such advances as a pleasurable thing. At least, it’s very similar to how elves feel during such activities. You do find Prince Fili attractive, do you not?”

Sigrid looked across the ring as Fili spluttered and punched Kili before darting a glance towards her, red staining his cheeks.

“How could I not?” she asked, leaning her elbow on her knee and propping her chin in her hand to watch him tackle his brother to the ground. “Golden hair, the most beautiful grey-green eyes, sweet, kind, and all that muscle. I don’t care that he’s shorter than me. It just means I don’t have to crane my neck up to kiss him.”

Tauriel laughed and Sigrid envied her for the beauty of the sound but pushed the thought aside, grinning in return.

“I see your point but I’m much fonder of brunets and darker eyes.” 

They watched the brothers for a moment and then they both sighed. “And that smile,” they chorused and then giggled looking at each other. They didn’t notice the two brother’s look up at that moment, their laughing grins easing into fond smiles.

“I am glad you chose to confide in me,” Tauriel confessed. “It will be nice to have another girl to talk to.”

“I’m glad too,” Sigrid said as she calmed. “So it’s all normal? Nothing to worry about?”

Tauriel shook her head. “It sounds like you are attracted to him and trust him, otherwise I don’t think your body would respond to his attention so willingly. Just don’t let the feelings carry you away and you should fare just fine. Who knows, maybe this is the precursor to love?”

Sigrid tucked the spark of hope that lit inside her away for her to examine later. “Do you ever feel the same way with Prince Kili?”

“Often,” Tauriel admitted. “Being with him is a wonderful thing but I’ll spare you the details for now. Today is about your concerns, not our physical relationships with the Durin princes.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid said and they fell silent, watching the brothers again until it was time for the four of them to meet Dis for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed all the fluff!
> 
> If you have a minute, please leave a comment.
> 
> If you have a prompt you'd like filled, please leave it. I need some stuff to keep me occupied for the rest of October.
> 
> If you haven't done so already, leave kudos. 
> 
> If anyone would like the bread recipe that Sigrid makes, let me know. It's pretty delicious if I do say so myself.
> 
> Happy reading everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili ignores Kili's words.
> 
> Sigrid hates horseback riding.
> 
> Nori is impatient.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so very wonderful and I feel so loved! Thank you for your kind comments and kudos! I hope you like this chapter. There is a character introduced here that is my own. She doesn't play a significant part in this work but will in at least one of the companion fics that will come. If you'd like to see more of her, let me know.

Chapter 15

The trip to the Carpenter’s Guild went well that afternoon. It didn’t take long for Sigrid to settle on what she wanted. The only hiccup came when the carpenter they’d chosen asked, “And how large would you like the bed?”

Sigrid’s mind blanked as she glanced down at Fili as the enormity of that simple question struck her. Come Durin’s Day, she would not be the only one expected to sleep in that bed, at least on occasion. It would need to be large enough to accommodate both of them.

Fili seemed to note her internal panic. “All things considered, make it the same size as we keep in the diplomatic rooms for humans,” Fili said with a quick smile at her, “so she doesn’t have to worry about hitting her head or her feet in her sleep.”

The carpenter glanced at Sigrid for confirmation. She shoved her nerves back and said, “That should do nicely.” He bowed and they finished with the final details. Once they’d left, Sigrid bent to bury her face in Magnus’ fur.

“You’re easily flustered,” Fili remarked with a grin.

“How can you be so cavalier about that?” Sigrid asked, voice muffled and appalled in equal measure.

Fili glanced around. “Let’s find somewhere that we can talk without people overhearing,” he said.

“Workshop?” Sigrid asked hopefully. She found a bit of comfort in his domain where he created freely, working on delicate strings of gems and precious metals to bold and heavy crowns and everything in between. 

He thought for a moment. “We can’t keep retreating there or someone is going to get suspicious of our actions while we’re hiding away. I’m sure you don’t want such gossip running rampant and making its way back to Dale.”

Sigrid shook her head, hiding her eyes in Magnus’ neck as she took a deep breath to calm down.

“We can probably claim I forgot something we should have gone over this morning as long as we don’t spend too long in there though. Let’s go.”

Sigrid stood but kept one hand buried in Magnus’ scruff as they walked, her other arm she kept linked with Fili’s. She struggled with the fear rising in her at the conversation they were possibly about to have. She knew they needed to talk about their wedding night and other aspects of their physical relationship but that didn’t mean she looked forward to it. She barely noticed their progress through the hallways and public areas of the mountain until Fili ushered her into his workshop. He shut the door and let Sigrid settle down onto the couch. Magnus dropped his head onto her lap so she could keep rubbing at his head, neck, and shoulders.

“Would you like some tea?” Fili asked, already heading to light a fire in the small forge he used in his work.

“Please,” Sigrid said fervently. She knew she’d need it. She kept her hands busy, finger combing Magnus’ coat while she waited. Finally, Fili joined her, handing her a mug. They remained silent as they sipped at their tea and avoided eye contact at all costs.

Fili broke the silence. “To answer your question about my dealings with the carpenter, it’s simple really. I’m young, I have a rather attractive intended despite the lack of beard,” he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye before staring back at his tea again, “and I’m expected to be eager for our relationship to progress, for our wedding night in particular.”

“I see,” Sigrid managed through a suddenly dry throat. She took a quick sip of tea before she started choking on the sensation.

Fili ducked his head further. “I’ll stop if it bothers you.”

“No,” Sigrid said. “I can understand. I’m just not used to that kind of insinuation.”

He smiled grimly. “I’m aware. I try to make a point of keeping such talk to a minimum in Dale, both from myself and other dwarrow.”

“Like with the soldier last night.”

“Yes, just like that.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably and Sigrid looked over at him questioningly. She watched as his face turned the same color as the rubies on his workbench. “While we’re dancing around the subject, I might as well mention the Oliphant in the room. I talked to Kili while you talked with Tauriel.”

“I noticed,” Sigrid said, wondering what he was getting at and why his face changed to an even darker shade of red. “What about?”

“I’m guessing the same thing you talked to Tauriel about. Our kiss this morning in Dori’s office and my, ah, well, reaction to it.”

“Oh.” Sigrid no longer questioned his coloring as she once again felt the desire to hide her face in Magnus’ fur. She almost set her mug aside but instead hid behind it as she took another sip. Silence stretched as they both worked up the courage to speak about what had happened. Clutching her mug, Sigrid took the initiative. “I reacted too, you know. I enjoyed it,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed all our kisses and sometimes my stomach does this strange flipping, tumbling, falling thing that leaves me unsure if it’s a good or bad sensation, like with our first kiss, but I want to feel it again. That happened this morning and I was honestly a little angry at Master Nori for interrupting us.”

Fili sighed in relief. “I felt the same,” he said with a bit of a grin. “Kili suggested what I felt then and other times we’ve been together could be... Well, never mind that. He doesn't make any sense most of the time.”

“Tauriel suggested it could just be a physical reaction or maybe...” Sigrid trailed off, still refusing to look directly at him. She kept glancing out of the corner of her eye only to find him in the same state as her. “Do you-” her mouth suddenly dried out and she took a sip of tea to get her throat working again. “Do you think it could be love?”

“I have hope that it is,” Fili said even as he cringed at the remembered sound of Kili's voice informing him that he already loved the girl and was just stupidly blind to the fact. “I’d very much like to marry someone I love.” Here he cleared his throat again. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I need to say this so you’re aware. I won’t hide anything from you.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Sigrid summoned up the courage to look at him directly and he turned his head slightly as if afraid to make direct eye contact but fighting to do so for her sake. “I do think it’s just physical response. Lust. I think you’re rather pretty, I trust you, and, well, my body responds to that when we’re physical with each other.”

Sigrid huffed a short laugh. “And when I publicly stake a claim on you.”

Fili coughed. “Yes, then too.” He smiled, finally able to turn to look at her directly. “Is that all right?”

Sigrid shrugged. “I react too,” she said again. “It’d be rather hypocritical of me to be angry with you when I feel the same.”

Fili nodded. “Good, but let’s hope for love, shall we?” He extended one hand, palm up for her to take.

She dropped her hand into his and smiled at him. “I think we should.”

“Good,” Fili set his mug aside, still with an inch or two of liquid left in it. He'd clean up later. “Let’s go do something to stop worrying about this particular mess for now.”

“Please,” Sigrid said and stood up to follow him. “What do you have in mind?”

“You need to learn to ride a horse,” he reminded her with an evil grin.

“I take it back, I’m staying here.”

~*~*~

The horseback riding lesson was absolutely entertaining in Fili’s opinion. He’d refused to ride with Sigrid this time, staying on the ground while he walked her through the basics. He had a good laugh watching her try to post trot at first.

“You’d think someone with such a good sense of rhythm in music could handle matching a horse’s gait,” he called to her as she struggled to figure out when to rise in the saddle and when to sit.

“This is much harder than it looks,” Sigrid panted and gently pulled her buckskin mare to a stop. She’d decided to call her Nutmeg.

Noting the time, Fili came forward and patted the horse’s withers. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Now we need to go clean up if we’re to be in time for dinner.”

Sigrid sighed in relief and swung her leg over the saddle and slid down to the ground. She flicked her reins over Nutmeg’s head and urged her gently forward out of the training arena and to the stables. As she walked, she groaned. “I thought I was sore this morning but I get the feeling tomorrow is going to be worse.”

Fili just grinned and watched as she started undoing buckles to remove the saddle. As soon as the mare was untacked he handed over a bristle brush. “Give her a quick once over,” he said. “The stable hands will finish up after that.” She went to work as he went to Nutmeg’s head, petting her nose when the horse dipped down to sniff at his pockets. “What are you looking for?” he asked and reached up to scratch at her ears and tug at her forelock. Nutmeg gave him a nudge near one pocket and he laughed. “All right, you caught me,” he said and produced a small, red and green macintosh apple from a pocket and fed to the horse as Sigrid brushed loose hair and sweat from the golden coat.

“You’re very at ease with her,” Sigrid remarked as she placed her hand on Nutmeg’s back and walked around her backend close enough that any kick would lack any strength behind it. She went to work on brushing out the coat on that side.

“I learned how to ride as a dwarfling,” he admitted. “Not an overly common skill among dwarrow, but with my status as royal heir and the duties it entails, I learned young, as did Kili. We also rode ponies from Ered Luin to the edge of the Trollshaws and then from Beorn’s home to the edge of Mirkwood. I ride any time I visit Dale as well.”

Sigrid nodded, not taking her eyes away from her work. She finished quickly and handed her brush over to a waiting stable hand who would continue grooming the mare and getting her settled for the night. She gave Nutmeg a final pat before following Fili out of the stables.

They walked back to the royal wing together, chatting about how it was to grow up knowing his place in the world as Thorin’s heir and how different Sigrid’s life had been growing up as a bargeman’s daughter who lost her mother young and had to take over the family’s wellbeing at a young age. They parted outside Sigrid’s rooms, sharing a quick kiss for a nearby servant's benefit before she went inside to bathe and change before dinner.

Fili returned an hour later and Sigrid opened the door with one hand, the other, holding the strands of her half-completed braids steady. His eyes shifted immediately to her hand as it went up to finish the braid.

“Sorry,” she said. “Should I have finished this before answering the door?”

Fili swallowed. “Yes. Head inside and we’ll close it.” He followed her in and stepped away from her quickly, tucking his hands behind his back.

“Fili?” she asked, still working on the braid. She’d almost reached the end of his braid, finishing up the last repetition of the pattern that defined him publicly.

“I’m fine,” he said and cursed the slightly strangled quality of his tone.

“You don’t sound fine.” She capped the braid with the proper bead and let her hands fall from her hair. “Is this a dwarf thing? Should I not be braiding my hair in front of you?”

“Yes, it’s a dwarf thing. Just don’t braid your hair in public.”

“Right.” She started sectioning out another bit of hair to do the next part of the betrothal braid. She glanced at him. “Would you like to do this?” she asked. “You said once that you don’t often braid another’s hair.”

“There’s a reason for that,” he reminded her. “You understand what you’re asking me to do?”

She looked down, her hands falling from her hair and coming together in front of her to twist nervously. “I do. After what we talked about this morning, I thought it might be good to practice being near each other in intimate ways that don’t involve kissing. Maybe try to acclimate ourselves to each other physically so we can more easily sort through what we feel toward each other?”

“That might help,” Fili admitted. “All right. Sit. I’ll finish your braid for you.” His hands did not shake as he once again braided her hair for her. Really. They didn't. They remained silent and he tried to identify that strange feeling that surged through his stomach whenever he experienced something new and different with her. The silence of the room, her rooms, pressed at him, adding to the reverence of his task. Of all the times he’d braided her hair in Dale, they’d always had the risk of an audience and he'd been focused on teaching her the patterns, not just enjoying the action. Even the first time he’d braided her hair the door was open to appease Bard. The only other time they’d been alone was in his workshop when they planned their wedding and he’d been too focused on mentally planning out their route for that day to appreciate the quiet moment. This, knowing they were truly alone with no risk of interruption, left him struggling to keep his mind focused on the pattern. Finally, he finished and she turned to look at him with a smile.

“Now that wasn’t too bad, was it?” She asked, humor shining in her eyes.

Fili leaned forward and caught her lips with his in an earnest, warm kiss, his hands shifting to cradle her head and neck. He felt her hands fist into the front of his tunic and tug him closer. He stole one slow, exploratory lick of her lower lip as an indulgence before pulling away from her, hands still on her neck and buried in her unbound hair at the back of her head. “No,” he rasped, “not too bad at all.”

Sigrid giggled before slapping a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and blood rushing to color her cheeks a lovely pink and Fili kissed her forehead. 

“That is how our first time braiding your hair should have ended,” he murmured against her skin before taking a few steps back to give her space to stand.

Sigrid moved over to a table where she’d left her brush, quickly running it through her loose hair before braiding the mass. Fili watched her every move, taking in her shaking fingers and the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she refused to look at him. When she went to pin it up at her nape, as usual, he stopped her gently. “Leave it down?” he asked. She nodded.

“I apologize,” he said and linked his hands behind his back to show his intentions of keeping them to himself for the rest of the evening. “I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Sigrid glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I don’t mind,” she said and looked away again, a bashful smile tugging at her lips. “It’s still a bit awkward though. Kissing you. And all that happens when we do. You’re still my best friend. I can’t imagine being this embarrassed if I was in love with you.”

“I know what you mean,” Fili said with a huff of laughter. “Even as I find myself wanting to kiss you repeatedly and with abandon, part of me starts squirming in discomfort at the idea. It does seem to be a smaller and smaller part all the time though.”

“And you,” Sigrid said, looking at Magnus who lifted his head from the comfortable rug in front of the fireplace at being addressed, “are a horrible chaperone.” Magnus stood and shook his coat out before taking up a position next to Fili as if to declare his loyalties to the dwarf, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.

Laughing, Fili held a hand out to her and said, “We should get going or we’ll be late.” She took it and he threaded his fingers through hers before leading her out of the room, Magnus trotting at their sides.

The rest of Sigrid’s stay at the mountain consisted mainly of lessons. She spent an afternoon with Ori, learning the basics of speaking khuzdul, the foundations of the language and words and phrases. Her mornings she spent with Fili, Kili, and Tauriel as they all took lessons in dwarfish diplomacy from Balin. The afternoons she didn’t spend with Ori, she spent with Fili learning to ride Nutmeg.

The last day of her stay in Erebor dawned bright outside the mountain and a buzz of excitement that had been going through the mountain reached the peak of a crescendo. When Fili arrived in the morning to take her to breakfast, he greeted her with an excited kiss.

“What are we doing today?” Sigrid asked as she linked hands with him, nodding at the dwarf walking down the hall with a cart full of laundry in front of him.

“We are going to ride out and meet the last caravan from Ered Luin. The last of my people are arriving today.” He practically bounced on his feet as they walked. “There will be a feast tonight to celebrate. Uncle has had everyone preparing for weeks now and he is thrilled to finally welcome everyone home to Erebor at last.”

“Do you know anyone that’s arriving?” Sigrid asked as they entered the dining hall and took their seats as servers brought them plates filled with eggs, bacon, hash browns, ham, and other delicious foods. One of them brought a fresh pot of tea.

“A few dwarrow,” Fili said after nodding his thanks to the kitchen staff serving them. He dug into his breakfast. “No one I know well. Bombur’s preparing a picnic for those of us headed out to meet the caravan.”

Sigrid pushed some fried tomatoes to the side of her plate with a slight grimace. “Who all is going?”

Fili washed down a bite of bread and honey with some of his tea and made a face. “Your bread is so much better than this. Give Bombur your recipe before you leave or I am going to show up at your house demanding my own loaf on a daily basis.” He took another sip. “Kili and Tauriel will go with us, Dwalin will head the guards, and the Ri brothers will be there. Nori especially will be chomping at the bit to leave this morning so we’ll need to hurry before he comes to hustle us along.”

“Too late,” a voice behind them drawled and Sigrid looked over her shoulder to see the aforementioned dwarf leaning against the wall behind them. “If you don’ mind, I’d like t’ get on the road soon.”

“Is Kili ready to go?” Fili asked and then followed the direction of Nori’s nod. His younger brother was wolfing down the last of his breakfast as Tauriel finished her own tea. “Kee!” Fili called and his brother looked up sharply. “Race you and your pointy-eared she-elf too the stables!”

“You and your fragile human are on!” He started shoveling food into his mouth at an even faster pace and Fili did the same, casting a glance at Sigrid. She grabbed a couple of scones off a plate placed between them, wrapped them in a napkin, and shoved them into her pockets to snack on later before finishing her eggs and potatoes. She stood first and took her plates to the servers waiting for them. Fili, Kili, and Tauriel were right behind her. The four raced out of the dining hall and towards the stables. The brothers took great pleasure in cheating, grabbing each other and pulling them back, body checking each other into walls, and generally making the run more difficult. Sigrid stayed as close to Tauriel’s heals as she could, still not sure of her way but content to reach the stables after the elf maid. With one final yank of his collar, Fili overtook his brother and slapped a hand to the wall where their horses were housed. He crowed in delight at his younger brother’s irritated look.

“You cheated,” Kili sniffed. 

“Now you sound like Dwalin,” Sigrid said.

“Leave me out of this.” The large dwarf lumbered past, heading straight towards the stall of a shaggy, blue roan pony that a stable hand was just tightening the saddle girth of. “And you did cheat.”

“I beat you in a fair fight,” Sigrid said as she went to collect Nutmeg’s reins from the dwarf leading the horse from her stall. The group soon led their ponies and two horses out of the mountain, only to meet up with the three Ri brothers already waiting.

“How did Nori beat us here?” Kili asked when Fili handed him the reins to his pony so he could check on Sigrid. “We left before him.”

Nori just smirked at the younger prince.

“Ready?” Fili asked Sigrid coming to stand next to her. She stood by Nutmeg’s withers, patting the mare gently and waiting for everyone else to mount up before she did as well.

“This is going to be a rough ride, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Doubtful. We’ll probably keep a fairly easy pace. No sense killing the ponies when there’s no danger. It’s just going to be a long one.” He patted Nutmeg’s cheek when the horse turned to look at him. “I’ll ride next to you until we are within sight of the caravan. At that point, you’ll need to drop back so Nut’s head is level with Jasper. Kili will be on my left so keep steady with him.” He nodded toward his brother and the sorrel pony.

Sigrid nodded.

Noting a few eyes shifting towards them he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. He dropped his voice to avoid eavesdroppers and to create the illusion of a tender moment. “If you’d rather I took you back to Dale instead of going with us, that’s all right. I know you’re still not confident in the saddle. For all we'll take it easy, it will be most of the day.”

Sigrid put her hand on his cheek and smiled at him. “I appreciate the offer but I shouldn’t have any problems. Thank you though.”

“We better mount up,” Fili said, seeing Dori climb into his dappled grey’s saddle. “Would you like a leg up?”

“Yes please.” She leaned down and kissed him gently and only the slightest bit of red stained her cheeks when she pulled away enough for him to help her into the saddle.

His fingers shifted on her leg as he supported her weight, drawing the trousers up and exposing her leg up to her knee. He leaned in and kissed her just behind the knee, and then nipped lightly at her skin, startling a gasp from her. He winked up at her and tugged her trousers back into place over the tops of her well-worn boots before turning away and accepting Onyx’s reins from Kili and mounting his pony. He moved to the front of the group, Sigrid following close behind with Magnus trotting along to keep up with her. Those not already in the saddle climbed up and the group took to the road toward the Long Lake. With any luck, they’d meet the caravan near the shore in a few hours’ time.

The ride went smoothly with no concerns or problems. After being in the saddle every afternoon for almost a week, Sigrid was getting better but she did end up feeling rather sore when they stopped to eat lunch at the lake shore. She and Fili lounged on a blanket near where Kili and Tauriel reclined on their own blanket. Magnus padded to the lake to get a drink and soak his paws for a minute before returning and flopping down next to Sigrid. Fili watched as she lay on her back, arms out straight at her sides and a smile on her face and her sleeves shoved up to her elbows.

“I’ve missed sunlight,” she admitted, peaking at him with one open eye. “Do dwarrow never feel that way?”

“It’s a rare thing,” Fili admitted as he watched her and admired the way the sun brought out coppery highlights in her hair. “Kili gets that way.”

Sigrid wriggled her shoulders a bit, trying to get more comfortable. “I do. When the winters get too long and there’s too much cloud cover I can get grumpy. Tilda hides from me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fili said, absently eating one of the scones Sigrid had stuffed in her pocket that morning. He filed the information away, thinking of something he could do for her. He’d have to talk to Bofur and some engineers, see if it would be possible. Sunlight, he decided, was good for Sigrid, helped her look more vibrant and alive. The bright light gave new life to the color of her skin instead of the paleness she seemed coated with inside the mountain. He could clearly see the green and gold flecks in her grey eyes. He especially enjoyed the additional freckles that appeared on her skin as the sun soaked into her flesh over time. She seemed more content outside as well and he worried about condemning her to a life underground.

“Stop that,” Sigrid said without opening her eyes.

“Stop what?”

“Brooding.”

“I do _not _brood,” he scoffed. “Uncle broods.”__

__“He is the master at it,” Sigrid agreed with a grin and turned her head to look at him directly, “but when you get something in your head that bothers you, you brood as well. Let me guess, you’re worried about me seeing the sun after I move to Erebor?”_ _

__He huffed a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”_ _

__She shrugged and sat up enough to prop herself on her elbows. She let her head hang backward, displaying the column of her throat to the sun. Fili swallowed at the sudden urge to latch his mouth to her skin and leave a very obvious mark. “It wasn’t hard to figure out considering what we were just discussing.”_ _

__“I don’t want you to be miserable in a sunless place,” he admitted._ _

__“I can always make the walk to the front gates if I need to see the sky. I’m young. My legs work just fine. Stop brooding about it.”_ _

__He shifted until he sat next to her head and reached out a hand to tuck some of the flyaway curls that surrounded her face back towards her ears. “You would tell me if you thought there was something to make our marriage not work, wouldn’t you? Even something such as having to walk to the front gates to see the sun?”_ _

__She lifted her head back up and sat up, shifting so they sat hip-to-hip. She leaned across him, placing her hand on the ground by his other hip so she leaned across his body as she looked him in the eyes. “I want this to work just as much as you do,” she said. “I’ll tell you.”_ _

__“Good.” He tucked his hand behind her head and pulled her into a soft kiss. It quickly changed into a series of short nips and kisses and grins with the occasional chuckle or giggle thrown in for good measure._ _

__“Caravans almost here. We should be prepared to meet them,” Nori called a minute later. He was already tugging his seal brown pony's reins over her head before swinging up into the saddle._ _

__Fili reluctantly pressed one last kiss to Sigrid’s lips before releasing her. “It’s getting harder to stop doing that,” he whispered as he pulled his fingers from her hair, careful not to dislodge any of the pins._ _

__In reply, Sigrid leaned in for another quick, openmouthed kiss before standing up and dusting off her trousers. The blankets were quickly folded and attached to saddles and the remainders of their lunch were packed away into saddlebags. They mounted up and started to ride along the lake. As soon as they were in sight of the wagons and outriders of the caravan lumbering toward them, Sigrid slowed Nutmeg to match the same pace of Kili’s pony Jasper. Fili reached into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a golden coronet. Making a face, he put it on and glanced at Sigrid._ _

__“How do I look, Ibrizinlêkh?” he asked with a rakish grin._ _

__“Handsome as ever, Fili Dear,” she said._ _

__As the caravan drew near, a whoop sounded amongst the weary dwarrow and one of the ponies towards the front of the line took off toward them. Fili blinked in surprise as Dwalin drew Grasper and Keeper off his back and stood in his stirrups, ready to throw one of the large weapons._ _

__The rider ignored them, pulling the pony to a stop a few feet from them. Dwalin relaxed back into the saddle as they launched themselves from pony back and raced past Fili with a joyous cry that Sigrid didn’t understand. She twisted in the saddle as the dwarrowdam launched herself into Nori’s arms the moment his feet touched the ground even though she was still a good distance away from him._ _

__Nori didn’t even bother with words and just caught her and desperately pulled her to him, kissing her with such ardor that Sigrid turned away, feeling like an intruder in a very private moment._ _

__“That’s Lira,” Dwalin rumbled quietly from where he rode near her, his pony’s head level with her legs. He’d put his axes away when he’d recognized the dam. “Nori’s One. She volunteered to stay in Ered Luin until the last caravan came across to join us.”_ _

__“Such a long time to be parted,” Sigrid murmured and tried to ignore the half sob, half laugh coming from one of the two dwarrow behind her._ _

__“They’d barely found each other before we started the quest,” Fili told her as they rode on, leaving Nori, Dori, Ori, and Lira behind them. “I think if he hadn’t already signed the contract, Nori would have backed out regardless if Dori and Ori still came along.”_ _

__“Heads up,” Dwalin ordered. “We’re in range to greet.”_ _

__Fili pulled his pony to a stop as he twitched his fingers towards Sigrid in a silent order to stop as well. She did, patting Nutmeg’s neck when the mare danced under her slightly. She sat straight as dwarrow approached._ _

__Fili stood in his stirrups as the caravan came closer and called in a voice that carried above all the noise. Sigrid tried to follow what he said but beyond the polite greeting, she knew no other words. The caravan leader called back and soon rode up to face Fili, bowing in the saddle. As they spoke, Sigrid watched, noting the glances sent her and Tauriel’s ways. When a dwarf did a double take when he spied Sigrid, she knew something was up. He whispered to his neighbor who looked at her and with wide eyes, whispered to another dwarf. The whispering increased until it broke into murmurs._ _

__The caravan leader broke off when the noise increased too much and turned to snap at her people only to be brought up short when someone said loud enough to be heard, “She wears the crown prince’s braid and he wears hers!” The dwarrowdam in charge of the travelers looked sharply at Sigrid who gave her a serene smile in reply._ _

__“You’re betrothed?” the leader asked, now speaking Westron._ _

__Fili motioned to Sigrid who nudged Nutmeg forward the few feet needed to draw level with him. “Khebna, may I present Lady Sigrid of Dale, called Wolf’s Bane. My intended. Lady Sigrid, please meet Lady Khebna, Daughter of Khorbel.”_ _

__“At your service,” Khebna said, bowing in her saddle._ _

__“Well met, Khebna, Daughter of Khorbel,” Sigrid said and mentally thanked Balin for teaching her the proper way to greet others as the beginnings of her diplomacy lessons._ _

__A murmur rippled through the caravan. The hairs on the back of Sigrid’s neck stood on end at the noise. Fili ignored it and raised his voice so all could hear. He spoke in Khuzdul again and soon he was turning his pony. Their small party followed his example and they joined the caravan for the rest of the trip back to Erebor._ _

__The Ri brother’s and Nori’s One rejoined them shortly. The dam now sat on Nori’s pony with him, leaning against his chest and tilting her head back so she could whisper in his ear and kiss him alternately. He returned the affection and his arms held her tightly against him._ _

__“You can ride next to me now,” Fili told Sigrid and she urged Nutmeg to match Onyx’s pace._ _

__“She’s quite lovely,” Sigrid remarked, looking over at where Lira turned in the saddle to seal her lips with her One’s again._ _

__“There’s a lot of arguments on who is luckier,” Fili admitted, glancing over at Lira and Nori, taking in her black hair and beard. Her hair was braided in one plait down her back and her beard consisted of sideburns that were brushed back into her hair. She was thin for a dwarf and lithe. Her eyes were almost as dark as her hair._ _

__“Do you suppose she was hurt on the journey?” Sigrid asked quietly. “She’s holding her leg at a bit of an awkward angle.”_ _

__Fili glanced over to see what she meant. “I’d forgotten that,” he admitted. “It’s an old wound. She lost a leg at Azanulbizar. What you’re seeing is the prosthetic not sitting straight. I'd imagine she has her better one stashed away somewhere so it wouldn't get damaged during the journey.”_ _

__Sigrid didn’t respond and moved her eyes away from the couple._ _

__“I think you’ll like her,” Fili continued. “She’s full of snark. Has to be if she wants to keep Nori in line.”_ _

__Sigrid grinned. "I'd imagine so," she said._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments! Please leave kudos! Please leave prompts! I need something to work on when I get stuck with the companion fics I'm working on (one has already suffered a 3,000-word false start but we're rolling again. Don't worry). I'll see you all again on Friday for the next chapter!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid gets a present.
> 
> Fili gets in trouble.
> 
> Thorin and Bard argue.
> 
> Sigrid is mortified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the comments! You people are amazing! Thank you so much! I feel so loved.
> 
> I'm so sorry this is going up so late but it's still before midnight somewhere. I promise I'll never be this late again. I had a problem with this chapter. I read it through this morning (my usual habit before posting), realized I hated half of it with a passion, and had to rewrite that half of the chapter. I hope you like the changes I made. It just give s Fili and Sigrid more time interacting with each other than it did before. Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 16

“You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here,” Sigrid said in place of a greeting when she hustled into the sitting room, her eyes on Fili. Kili, Dis, Thorin, and Bilbo glanced at her from where they talked with Bard, Bain, and Tilda but otherwise didn’t remark on her entrance or lack of proper manners. She’d stayed at the mountain for one more day after the last caravan arrived before returning to Dale. She made the trip to Erebor one day a week to study with Ori and Balin but otherwise had been thrown completely into the preparations for the coronation the day she’d returned home, limiting her time with Fili.

“Need help with that?” Fili asked, his hand tugging on a loose strand of her hair. Her betrothal braid was still in but wasn’t as pristine as she preferred to keep it.

“Yes,” she said with relief. “This is probably the second worse day in my life that my hair could decide to not cooperate.”

“The first being?” Fili prompted as he followed her to her room. He set aside the box he carried once inside. He left the door open a crack, just in case Bard came to check on them. He tugged the beads from her hair and started unraveling the braid.

“Probably our wedding day,” she said and red flared across her cheeks at the admission.

“Speaking of which,” Fili said as he started running her brush through her hair. He grimaced at the worn wooden object in his hand. She needed a new one, befitting her station. “Are you and your father coming to Erebor next week after the celebrations for the coronation are over? Balin is starting to hint about the marriage contract.”

Sigrid made a face. “Yes, we’ll be there although Da will have to come back to Dale the day after. There’s apparently a large group of tradesmen coming and they’re expected to arrive then.”

He separated her hair and started expertly weaving in the braids. “That’s all right. We’ll gladly keep you all to ourselves.”

Sigrid huffed a laugh and waited as he finished the betrothal braid and secured the final clasp. Before he started braiding the rest of her hair, he picked up the box he’d set aside. “My second gift to you, Ibrizinlêkh,” he intoned carefully as he handed it over.

She set the box on her lap and examined the box, from the ornately carved lid to the strong but small clasp keeping it closed, before opening it. She smiled at the contents and ran her fingers along the metal lengths. “Jeweled hairpins,” she said, her fingers touching the tiny gems worked into shapes of stars, tiny birds, dragons, suns, flowers, and other brightly colored objects. Twenty different designs of different gems and metals with each design having twenty pins to the bundle. There were two large versions of each design as well. “They’re absolutely beautiful Fili. I accept your gift gladly.”

Fili leaned over the back of her chair. “Which would you like to wear today?” he asked. “The suns would look beautiful with your dress as would the thrushes.” He pointed at each set in turn. “The roses wouldn’t go amiss either, or the butterflies.”

“The suns and the thrushes please,” Sigrid said and she lifted out the two bundles as she felt Fili start sectioning out more hair, twisting it, tugging it, and pinning it at the back of her head until she had a series of curled loops held in place by a number of the hairpins she’d held out for him.

“These aren’t just regular hairpins,” he said as he worked quickly. “They’re sharp so be careful when you put them in or you might stab yourself.”

Sigrid examined one of the pins. “Do dwarrow usually wear sharp hairpins or something?”

He carefully secured more of her hair into place with one of the blazing suns made of rose gold and yellow tourmaline. “No. These are specifically for you, meant to solve a dilemma you’ve had from your father’s council. You will always have a weapon on hand if you need. They’re weighted to mimic throwing darts. I’ll teach you how to use them when you come to the mountain.”

She ran her hand along the jewels again. “They’re wonderful. Beauty and functionality together. Thank you, Darling.”

“You’re very welcome.” He continued taming the masses of her hair.

“What was it that you called me earlier?” she asked. “It’s not the first time you’ve called me that.” 

“Ibrizinlêkh?” He asked and she nodded as he started on another set of curls. “It means ‘sunshine’.”

“I like how it sounds when you say it,” she admitted and he grinned.

“Then I think we found the proper endearment for you,” he said. “I think it’s fitting, considering the warmth I feel every time I kiss you.”

“Now that’s just sappy,” Sigrid accused and he laughed.

“Very sappy,” he agreed as he placed the last thrush-shaped pin in her hair. He bent and placed a slow kiss to her neck, scraping his teeth lightly along her skin at the end, “but still true.” He dropped his hands away from her shoulders and stepped away so she could stand up and examine her hair in the mirror placed on one of her walls.

“You’re amazing,” she said. “I hope the coronet won’t mess it all up.”

“You really should have had one of us design it for you,” he said.

“I didn’t have a choice. If I did, I would have had you make it. Do you know they didn’t even let me see the design?”

Fili made a face. “I’m sorry in advance. Your father’s council has proved to not have much taste or sense.”

“Very true,” Sigrid said. She carefully closed the box of hairpins after Fili handed her those he hadn’t used and she’d placed them in their individual slot. She set it on her desk right in the middle with plans to examine the contents more thoroughly when they returned.

Bard glared when they returned to the sitting room. “Where have you two been?” he groused.

“Relax Da,” Sigrid said. “Fili was just helping me with my hair.”

“I can see that,” he said as his eyes fixed on the glimmering jewels before his eyes dropped to a patch of reddened skin on the side of her neck. “Do I need to make sure a maid follows the two of you around the moment he enters the house from now on? I’d thought I was being sensible in trusting you. Now I’m not so sure.”

Sigrid propped her hands on her hips. “They were a courting gift,” she said as if it explained everything.

“And this?” Bard asked.

Sigrid stilled, her eyes widening slightly. “What?” she asked.

Bard reached out and touched her neck where Fili had bitten her. “The rather obvious mark. I’d say I’m surprised I haven’t seen any on you before now but I also wasn’t with you last time you went to Erebor. I’m starting to think I need to send Tilda with you every time you go somewhere together.”

“Da-”

“It is traditional,” Dis interrupted while throwing a discreet elbow into Thorin’s ribs to keep him quiet, “for a kiss to be given next to where a courting gift is worn or used on the receiver. By dwarrow standards, nothing improper happened from what I can see. Just a bit of beard burn.” She cast a quick glare at her son. “Am I wrong, Fili?”

“No Amad, Lord Bard. It was just a kiss.”

Bard huffed, still giving Fili a dark look. “It better have been ‘just a kiss’.”

Sigrid chose not to gift her father with a reply, instead rubbing a hand at her neck, hoping the redness would disappear before they had to stand in front of Dale’s citizens.

“If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late,” Bain said, looking at the clock. He fidgeted, pulling on the hem of the rich brown tunic he wore, golden thrushes embroidered over each shoulder, their long tails twining at his back. 

“Do you think they’d believe us if we didn’t show up and said we forgot or lost track of time?” Sigrid asked hopefully.

“Don’t tempt me,” Bard huffed and looked around. “Where’s Tilda?”

“Here I am,” the young girl bounded back into the room. She carried a creamy, thin scarf with her which she handed to her sister. “This will hide it if it doesn’t go away.”

Sigrid took the scarf from Tilda with thanks and disappeared for a moment. She returned with the scarf around the back of her neck and the ends of it tucked down the front of her bodice, giving her a bit more cover from the sun as well as hiding the side of her neck.

“Much better,” Tilda said.

“Let’s go,” Bard grumbled. “How did you know to do that anyway?” he asked his youngest daughter as he led the way to the front door.

“I heard Lily Hopkins talking about how she hid a love bite from her father a few weeks ago,” she said and took Bain’s arm as they exited the house.

“She’s only a few years older than you,” Bard grumbled.

“And an absolute twit,” Tilda said. “Don’t worry Da. I know better than to act like her.”

“Good Darlin’ Girl. Stay away from boys.” Here Bard glared at Fili out of the corner of his eye.

Thankfully, Bilbo placed a calming hand on Thorin’s arm before he could bluster at the implication to his nephew’s honor. With a huff, the King Under the Mountain led the way out of the house and towards the City Square.

Visiting dignitaries and Dale’s citizens swarmed the streets, the crowds thickening the closer they got to their destination. They took to the side streets, trying to avoid the worst of the mess. Plenty of Dale’s citizens saw them and tried to stop them for conversation. Each time, Sigrid would politely excuse their party. Pride filled Fili at the ease she handled those around them. He had a feeling he wouldn’t need to worry too much about negotiating with difficult dignitaries if she were by his side to help.

Finally, they reached the City Hall and entered through the back door. Inside, some of the tension eased from their party. They waited for Tharkun to come to get them when it was time.

Sigrid sat next to Fili, leaning against him a little. “All right there?” he asked quietly.

“You do realize we’re going to be the center of attention soon enough, right?” she asked.

“Aren’t you excited to announce our engagement to everyone in Dale and all the visiting dignitaries?” he asked, his enthusiasm laid on extremely thick and his smile too wide for him to be sincere.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. Fili rubbed her back consolingly.

The herald motioned for them to approach the door. “It’s time,” Fili told Sigrid and she sat up, taking a deep breath. They stood together and Fili took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing her and walking through the door with his family to take their positions on the raised dais.

Bright sunlight blinded him momentarily as he stepped to the side, following behind Kili. Normally, he’d go first but he needed to be near Sigrid when she took her position. When his vision cleared, he realized why she’d been so nervous.

A sea of faces stared back at him. He swallowed down the nerves. This wasn’t worse than his own coronation, he reminded himself. Sigrid needed him to be confident so he straightened his spine another fraction of an inch and waited for when he would need to participate in the ceremony.

Tharkun had the honor of crowning the newly made royal family. He started with Tilda and then Bain. When he called Sigrid forward, she caught Fili’s eye. He couldn’t break decorum but he hoped she saw the encouragement in his eyes and stance. The coronet Bard’s council had commissioned from a human goldsmith was gaudy, to say the least with far too many gems that did not go well together. Fili held back the scoff that fought to escape him. He really should have been the one to design it.

At least the circlet she wore once they married would look better. Then she’d never wear the monstrosity Tharkun lowered onto her head and flattened her curls.

The thought made him feel oddly smug.

Once Bard was crowned and the royal family presented, Bard stepped forward and raised his hands to quiet the crowd. It took a few moments but finally, he was able to be heard. “People of Dale! We have more to celebrate this day. I present to you my daughter, Sigrid, called Wolfsbane.” Sigrid stepped up on her father’s left-hand side. “Today, we announce her engagement to Fili, Son of Dis, Nephew to Thorin II, King Under the Mountain, called Oakenshield, Crown Prince Under the Mountain.”

Fili stepped forward to stand next to Sigrid, careful to keep a proper amount of distance between them. When she reached for his hand, he took it without question, keeping his expression neutral as a half excited, half apprehensive murmur went through the crowd. After a few moments, a loud cheer started at the back of the crowd. It quickly spread. Beside him, Sigrid relaxed minutely. 

Fili’s eyes drifted to the back and he caught a quick glimpse of a familiar three-peaked hairstyle moving away. He’d have to remember to thank Nori for the help.

Once they were released from the ceremony, everyone descended the stairs to be surrounded by all the people. Fili stayed at Sigrid’s side, her arm looped through his and his free hand over hers, holding it in place on his forearm.

They smiled and made irritating pleasant small talk with the visiting dignitaries. Sigrid was asked all sorts of questions about the wedding plans and Fili received some supposedly good-natured ribbing about them. He coolly replied to such remarks with remarks meant to deflect conflict and bad opinions while also informing the speaker that they were in the wrong.

Finally, Sigrid managed to maneuver them away from the swarms of people for a few moments, taking shelter near the stairs to City Hall. She leaned against the stone, breathing heavily, a hand on her stomach.

“Now that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Fili asked. “Well, except for this monstrosity.” He reached up and tapped the coronet on her head.

She gave him a half smile. “Dratted thing doesn’t fit,” she told him. She shifted a little with a grimace. “I hate corsets. I could barely breathe up there. I thought I would faint when Da announced our engagement.”

“Wouldn’t that have been a sight?” Fili chuckled. “The worst is over now. Would you like to leave?”

She made a face. “I can’t. We can’t. They’ll start the dancing soon and we’ll be expected to be the second couple to start, after Da and whomever he asks to dance with him.”

“I’d forgotten about that,” he admitted. He heaved a sigh. “Nothing for it. We’ll have to do as we’re told. Don’t worry. I’ll catch you if you swoon My Blossom.”

Sigrid snorted and covered her mouth with a hand. “You’re horrible,” she said with a grin.

“And yet, you’re going to marry me,” he reminded her, theatrically clasping his hands together close to his chest and giving her an overly-soulful look.

She laughed and they rejoined the masses of people.

~*~*~

Fili walked into the conference room with his mother and Thorin, a sinking feeling entering his gut as he took in the sight of Balin and Ori sitting at one end of the table and Sigrid and Bard sitting along one side with Magnus sitting at attention by Sigrid’s side. He took a seat across from Sigrid and took in the serious set of her jaw. She kept her hands folded together on the tabletop. Her sleeves were pushed up slightly so he could barely see the hilts of her throwing knives peeking out from beneath the cloth, a blatant reminder that she was armed if the sword at her hip wasn’t weapon enough. Even her hair held some of the pins he’d gifted her, golden suns shining in the light as she turned her head slightly. He himself carried all his knives and his twin swords. Dis carried her axes and Thorin had Orcrist. Bard’s bow and quiver leaned against the table and he too wore a sword openly.

“Are we prepared for negotiations for the marriage of Fili, Son of Dis, Nephew to Thorin, King Under the Mountain called Oakenshield, Crown Prince of Erebor and Sigrid called Wolf’s Bane, Daughter of King Bard of Dale called the Dragonslayer, Princess of Dale?” Balin intoned formally once everyone was seated and Ori had pulled out quill and ink.

“We are prepared,” Bard, Thorin, and Dis chorused and Ori’s quill started scratching away.

Fili looked over at Sigrid, and let the mask he wore for state occasions crack slightly, displaying his worry and nerves for the proceedings when they made eye contact. Her own look mirrored his. He almost jumped when something brushed against his calf and he realized it was one of her feet, making discreet contact with him physically. His lips twitched a fast smile before he schooled his features back into an impassive mask. He extended his own feet under the table and let them rest, tangling their legs together where they couldn’t reach out and hold hands for reassurance like he wanted to.

“Then let us begin,” Balin said. “First order of business, home location. It is proposed the aforementioned parties, henceforth referred to as the Royal Couple, live within Erebor, specifically in the quarters of the royal family.”

“The princess has reportedly already agreed to this,” Thorin rumbled.

Bard looked at Sigrid who nodded in return. “You knew I’d be living here,” she reminded him quietly. “Fili is Crown Prince after all. He can’t be expected to live in Dale.”

Bard nodded to Balin. Ori scratched away at the parchment in front of him the entire time.

“Next item. Guest quarters for visiting family.” A somewhat smaller suite in the royal wing with the appropriate number of rooms was selected and would remain available for Sigrid’s family at whatever time they desired to visit. 

Most matters didn’t require too much argument. Others created contention.

“Item twelve. Overnight trips to Dale. It is proposed that the Royal Couple limit their trips to thirty within a calendar year,” Balin read.

“I’ll not have my daughter unable to visit her family when she desires,” Bard snapped, glaring at Thorin. 

“She cannot neglect her duties to what will be her people,” Thorin argued. 

Bard’s eyes narrowed. “Ninety days,” he countered, “and an unlimited number for trips that don’t last overnight.”

“Thirty-five days,” Thorin growled. “Her duties must be attended to before she may leave the mountain.”

“Each case must be reviewed and made sure it’s not an emergency. If she her family is in a crisis of any kind, she must be allowed, no matter what duties are placed before her. Eighty-five.”

“Thirty-seven days. Requests must be reviewed by an independent party.”

“Seventy-nine days. Who decides on the independent party?”

Sigrid sighed. “The independent party will be Balin as he knows the running of the mountain better than anyone. Overnight visits will be limited to sixty days with the exception of family emergencies being excluded from that number. Emergencies will also be determined by Balin.”

“Sigrid,” Bard murmured, giving her an irritated glare.

“Agreed,” Thorin said quickly and Balin started writing.

“Not agreed,” Bard growled and the older dwarf paused.

“Agreed,” Sigrid snapped and glared at her father. “You can always come and visit me,” she reminded him. “The road goes both directions.”

They managed to get through a few more issues before Balin said, “The Princess will be allowed personal funds from the royal treasure amounting to fifty gold coins a month as well as a clothing allowance of seventy gold coins a month. Funds may accrue and will be placed in accounts at a reasonable rate of interest and held by the royal treasurer Gloin, son of Groin.”

“Not enough,” Bard growled. “Personal funds will be one hundred, fifty a month. Clothing funds will be two hundred.”

Fili watched as Sigrid’s shoulders tightened as she sent a glare at her father. Of course, she wouldn’t care about the money, he thought with a slight huff. Fili spoke before Thorin could counter the demand. “The limit will be as already spoken but she will have access to my share of the treasure originally won from Smaug to do as she pleases.”

“She must consult you before she uses any portion of your share,” Thorin countered his nephew, his hand on Orcrist.

“Denied,” Fili growled, pulling a knife swiftly from his sleeve and slamming it into the table next to his uncle’s elbow. “She is to be my wife. We will be equals. What treasure is mine shall also be hers as she is my treasure.” He shifted one foot, drawing his leg up her shin slightly before settling back to its original position. She smiled at him.

“Agreed,” Dis said, casting a warm smile at her son and then glared at her brother as her fingers slid up the shaft of her ax.

“Agreed,” Sigrid said and, by the yelp from Bard, she stepped on her father’s foot to keep him from speaking further on the matter.

They worked through burial rights and location for when death claimed them, if they were allowed to remarry should one of them die at a young age, rights to decorating their home (they agreed to consult a third party), pets (dogs were fine. No cats), expectations of fighting if battle was to come to Erebor (they’d both fight until if and when children were involved. Once a royal child was born the matter would be revisited), how disagreements would be handled between the couple (no one’s business but their own. They’d keep fights behind closed and locked doors with no witnesses, not even their own children or guards), and so on until they came to one of the final matters.

“Where the eventuality of the possibility of children for the Royal Couple is unknown due to the mixing of races, they must at least attempt for children for a minimum of twenty-five years. Sexual intercourse with the purpose of procreation will be required a minimum of ten times in a fortnight until pregnancy can be confirmed.”

Fili felt the blood drain from his face and he looked across at Sigrid. Panic tensed her muscles and she stared at him. He fought down the utter terror in his own mind. They hadn’t talked about this. They hadn’t talked about children, about sex, about any of the territories they were walking into. They should. He knew they should have. He knew what came after the current issue and felt sick knowing that their wedding night was to be discussed after this particular clause was dealt with.

Sigrid jerked to her feet and Magnus looked up at her. “I need a break,” she said.

“Seconded,” Fili said, standing quickly. He jerked his head toward the door and she nodded. They fled the room before anyone could protest and before Magnus could climb to his feet and follow them.

“Workshop?” Sigrid asked.

“Take Kili with you, wherever you go,” Dis’s voice called after them.

“Have him meet us at my workshop,” he called back and grabbed Sigrid’s hand. “Run,” he ordered as he took off at a jog. She kept pace with him and sped up as he did. They made it to the workshop quickly and shut the door behind them.

Sigrid sank down onto the couch with a groan and hid her face in her hands. “I hate this.”

“I do too but if you want to work it out between the two of us without Kee as an audience we need to get through it quickly. Hopefully, Amad will take her time in finding him.”

“Are we really allowing others to dictate how often we have sex?” she asked, a blush raging across her entire face and onto her ears. 

“It’s a common clause in dwarrow marriage contracts,” he explained. “Whether or not a couple adheres to it is another matter. Most do but it’s not like someone is going to ask us daily if we are keeping to the contract’s demands.”

“So we can just say yes to the clause and then ignore it entirely?”

“Not entirely,” Fili hedged and sat next to her. “Like it or not, we’re going to be expected to have sex. We’re expected to try to provide an heir beyond Kili. We don’t know if he and Tauriel can have a child any more than if you and I can. We have no records of such unions producing a child.”

Sigrid brought her legs up to her chest and hid her face in her arms after resting them on her knees.

“We can try to talk them down to the requirement being at our discretion but we will probably have to provide a minimum number.”

“How low can we make that number?” she asked. “No offense, but it’s going to be awkward and horrible and strange doing that with you.”

“I completely agree. It’s going to be weird, but we’re going to have to make an effort towards children.”

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. “What do we do?” she asked. “Everyone thinks we’re madly in love. If we fight to bring the number of attempts,” here her face flared red again, “down at all, we may end up with people questioning that.”

“If we don’t object to the number provided, no one will care,” Fili said. “If your father fights to get the number down, it will be accepted. Where your people aren’t open with talking about that particular issue, we can pass off your silence as expected behavior. I can remain silent in deference to you without raising concerns. Will that be all right?”

“I guess it’s the best we can do,” Sigrid said.

He quirked a small smile. “It probably is. Now, before Kili gets here, we need to discuss one more thing.” He swallowed thickly at the sudden discomfort.

“What’s that?”

“Our wedding night,” he choked out. “There will need to be proof of consummation. That is one issue that no one on my side will concede.”

“Oh Valar.” She leaned her head back so it rested on the couch, her eyes squeezing shut in anxiety.

“I know.” He looked up at the floor, feeling slightly nauseated.

“What else are they going to require for that?”

“Location, duration-”

“Duration?!” she yelped.

He nodded, still thinking. “Position, form of proof-”

Sigrid choked. “Proof!”

“The only other thing I can think of that might come into the contract would be requests for personal comfort.”

“I’d be personally comforted for it all to be no one else’s business,” Sigrid snapped primly.

“I know. Me too, but you might think through it. I’ll probably request food be brought up from the kitchens and left for us before we reach the rooms. From what I understand we won’t get much to eat during the party as we’ll be expected to dance the entire time the musicians are playing. I’ll also request access to my own pillows. No offense to whatever pillows you may have ordered for your bed. I’m just a bit picky about that.”

“No offense taken,” she said. “Food sounds good. Can we get something to eat before we head back?”

“We’ll head to the kitchens and beg something off Bombur,” he promised. “One more thing. How many children do you want?”

She blinked at him. “I’d never thought about it really,” she admitted. “Maybe four?”

“Really?” he asked. “That many?”

“Seems like a reasonable amount to me,” she said. “Fairly average actually.”

“Humans have more children than dwarrow,” he said. “We typically are blessed with two at the most. Amad having two brothers was an abnormality.”

“We’ll say a minimum of two and a maximum of five then, barring any complications?” she asked.

“More than I could ever hope for,” he said. “That’s assuming we can even create a child.”

Sigrid grimaced. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“Well think quick,” Kili said poking his head in the door. “Amad said Uncle Thorin isn’t too pleased you seconded the motion to take a break,” he told Fili. 

“Uncle Thorin can go eat a rock,” Fili grumbled. “Be ready for embarrassment when you and Tauriel go through this.”

“Oh, are they negotiating how often you two have to have sex?”

Sigrid grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and hid under it with a dismayed whine.

“Kee, could you give us just a minute?” Fili asked. The younger brother ducked out the door. Fili caught the edge of the blanket and ducked under it too. “I know this is horrible to have to talk about, especially in front of your da and my amad, but it has to be done.”

“I know,” she said, meeting his eyes for the first time since they fled the conference room. “We should head back and just get through it. I can panic about it once it’s over.”

He took her hands in his. “We’ll let them fight it out. The only time they’re going to need proof of anything is our wedding night. Do you think we can make it through that one time?”

She smiled at him but the look in her eyes spoke of discomfort and outright terror. “We’ll muddle through somehow,” she said.

“All right.” He tugged the blanket off their heads and they stood. He folded it sloppily and tossed it back onto the couch before they walked out the door.

Kili waited for them there and then followed them down to the kitchens. After quite happily taking their time in devouring Bombur’s raspberry lemon cake, they returned to the conference room where lunch had been ordered. They had a proper meal before returning to the matter at hand.

After Balin reread the clause that had so distressed Sigrid, Bard suggested one alternative. “Sigrid may refuse or accept any requests for physical intimacy at any time.”

Fili could have kissed the man. It was the perfect way to handle their situation, leaving them open for a lot or a little intimacy, all at Sigrid’s discretion. “Agreed,” he said quickly and palmed the hilt of a knife just in case he needed to deter Thorin from arguing the point.

“Agreed,” Sigrid said, still not meeting anyone’s eyes as she stared at the tabletop immediately in front of her.

Balin blinked, looked at Dis who nodded and he wrote the change down, a slightly confused set to his features. Next, he brought up the dreaded wedding night.

As there was no possible way to deny proof of consummation, that was approved quickly. Location was quickly established as well, being the rooms that Sigrid would have as her bed was larger. Fili managed to argue the duration and position should be determined by them.

“Form of proof of consummation,” Balin said, looking down at his parchment again.

“The bedding may be examined the next morning,” Sigrid managed to say and Fili applauded the lack of inflection in her tone. “Proof will be there.” When no one objected, Balin wrote on his parchment.

“That is hardly proof,” Thorin growled.

“If you press this issue Thorin, I _will _have you thrown from the room. You are hereby my leave in the negotiations for _my son’s _marriage.” Dis growled without moving from her place but casting a dark glare at him. “If they claim there will be proof, there will be. Do not contest this.”____

_____ _

_____ _

Fili glanced at his mother gratefully and ignored the guilty twist of his stomach as he sat back down. Thorin subsided with a grumble in khuzdul and Balin finished his notes.

The negotiations continued for a little longer and by the time they ended, Fili was ready to fall asleep on the table. The stress of the day ate at him. When everything was finalized Balin and Ori left to write the final draft off their combined notes as the others left to find dinner which had been brought to the dining room attached to Fili, Dis, and Kili’s. The younger prince and Tauriel joined them. Magnus ate the food provided specifically for him before flopping down on a rug to nap. After the meal, they returned to the conference room to review the contract and sign it. By the time they finished, Fili just wanted to be left alone with Sigrid so they could have a few good minutes of complaining about the entire ordeal.

Surprisingly, his mother must have felt the same as she distracted Bard and shooed Fili and Sigrid ahead of them, saying they’d follow in a few minutes.

“That was awful,” Sigrid whined as she ran a hand along Magnus’ head. She rolled her shoulders and the joints gave small popping sounds as she released tension around them.

“Absolutely horrid,” Fili agreed. “But it’s over and now we just have to wait about three and a half months before any of what we argued over today will matter.”

They grumped and grumbled until they started laughing. When they reached the doors to their rooms, Fili took her hands in his. “Thank you for being willing to deal with it for me,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome,” she said, squeezing his fingers.

He stood on his tiptoes and kissed her, keeping it soft and chaste before bidding her goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos! I feel so loved with the sheer amount I've been getting. You all give me such a huge drive to write.
> 
> Happy reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid learns.
> 
> Fili gets a note.
> 
> Sigrid is in denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all so wonderful. I had so many new commenters this last chapter and it made me so happy! I felt so bad about being late with the last update that I'm making sure this one is early. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 17

Bard left the next day, early in the morning. Fili met Sigrid in the afternoons after he’d attended to his duties. He taught her more about horseback riding and knife throwing. He also started teaching her how to throw her hairpins the way he threw darts. She was much better with the knives but showed promise with the pins. Nori showed up a time or two as well, giving her tips on how to control her throws better while simultaneously dishing out a good amount of sarcasm and teasing.

Nori’s One Lira came along the day before Sigrid was to return to Dale and Fili, Sigrid, and Magnus watched as the couple sparred. It was an interesting thing to watch the two fight with blunted knives. Where Nori was quick and decisive, wasting no movement, Lira seemed to be slower but almost always managed to avoid being hit. Her movements flowed so easily together, even with her prosthetic leg and she managed to stay fairly even with her One.

“How does she do that?” Sigrid asked Fili as they leaned against the rail to the practice ring.

“Do what? Move the way she does?”

Sigrid nodded.

“She’s a dancer,” he said. She gave him a disbelieving look. “No really. Watch her the next time there’s a celebration of any kind.”

“Even with her leg?” Sigrid asked.

Fili nodded. “From what I understand, it took her decades to relearn how to move and to have a leg designed well enough to move the way she wanted. Now she and Nori put every other couple to shame when they dance together.”

“I’d like to see it sometime,” Sigrid admitted.

Fili watched her for a moment. She relaxed against the railing, a content smile on her face.

His raven suddenly landed on his shoulder and tugged at one of his braids. “Message,” it croaked in khuzdul.

“From whom?” he asked in the same language. 

“King Bard the Dragonslayer of Dale, passed from the thrush Brightsong.”

Fili frowned. Why would Bard send him a vocal message through one of his birds instead of sending one the conventional way? And why did he send it to Fili and not to Sigrid or Thorin depending on the subject? “I’ll receive it here,” he said, walking away from Sigrid.

“Message is ‘Keep her there. Illness in Dale. Will send more information. Please send carrier bird.’ End.”

Fili glanced over his shoulder at Sigrid. “Thank you,” he told the bird and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a biscuit he’d squirreled away at lunch and broke a few pieces off for the bird. “Go to Dale. Find the Dragonslayer and bring me back the written message he has for you. I’ll have food waiting when you return.”

The raven pecked at the crumbs before flying away again. Fili returned to Sigrid.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, turning towards him and studying his face.

He glanced around. No one seemed to be paying them any attention. “I just received a message from your father,” he told her and she cocked a questioning eyebrow at him. “I don’t know the details yet, but he said to keep you here, in the mountain I assume. There’s illness in Dale. Rork has gone to fetch a written message from him.”

“Illness?” Sigrid asked and all the color drained from her face. “How many are affected?”

“I don’t know. Rork will be back in an hour or so with your father’s letter. Sigrid, Ibrizinlêkh, are you all right?” He took her shaking hands.

“I-I have to go. Home. To Dale. I have to go.” He watched a tremor shake her entire body as she turned and stumbled. He caught her around the waist to steady her. Magnus whined his concern.

“Ibrizinlêkh, what is it?”

“I have to go,” she repeated, trying to pull away from him.

Fili pulled her closer to him and walked her out of the training grounds and towards her rooms. Magnus followed obediently. Once inside the halls of the royal wing, he pulled her to a stop. “I need you to talk to me,” he said. “You can’t go back to Dale. Your father asked me to keep you here.”

“There’s illness. I have to go and help. I can’t let them get sick.”

Fili frowned at her, trying to make sense of what she meant.

“Your father asked me to keep you here,” he repeated. “He wants you to be kept safe, away from the illness. Why do you need to go help?”

“I wasn’t old enough last time. I couldn’t help more. If I could, maybe she wouldn’t have died.”

“She?” Fili asked.

“Mum.” She tried to pull away from him again but he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her away from prying eyes, towards his family’s rooms. His mother was there, sitting by the fireplace with a cup of tea and a book when he brought Sigrid inside and got her to sit in a chair.

“Fili?” Dis asked, setting the book aside, “I thought you were spending the afternoon down at the training grounds.”

“We had a message from King Bard,” he said as he crouched in front of Sigrid and held onto her hands as she stared into space, reliving memories he assumed. “Illness has struck Dale. Sigrid is to stay in the mountain until further notice. We don’t know anything else at the moment. He’s sending further word with Rork.” Magnus rested his head on her legs and she tangled her fingers in his fur.

“I’ll send for more tea,” Dis said and went to the door as Fili placed a hand on Sigrid’s, trying to draw her out of the haunted look in her eyes.

“Ibrizinlêkh, come back to me,” he murmured, rubbing her chilly fingers vigorously. She blinked and turned to him.

“I need to see my da,” she said, her voice strangled.

“We’ll wait for his letter,” Fili told her. “Rork will be back soon with it. Will you stay with me?”

She nodded shakily as Dis returned. Soon after, a servant arrived with a tea service. He set it on the table before leaving. Dis poured the cups and brought them over to Fili and Sigrid.

“Thank you,” Sigrid said automatically and took a sip.

They remained silent as they waited for the raven to return. Fili stayed next to Sigrid and silently urged Rork to fly faster. When the bird finally made her way to the room, pecking at the door to be let inside, no one had moved a muscle. At the sound of the bird’s arrival, Fili stood and motioned for Sigrid to sit. She sank back into her chair, her eyes tracking him. When he opened the door, Rork flew past him and to the table with the tea. He followed and removed the letter tied to her leg while she snacked on some of the berry turnovers lining the plate.

Bard’s messy scrawl had scribbled his name on the outside of the parchment, having not bothered with an envelope.

Prince Fili,

Thank you for sending a raven. I must keep this brief. The trading caravan that arrived in Dale a few days ago carried illness with them, consisting of fever and vomiting and, in the worst cases, hallucinations and delirium. It has started to spread amongst my people. Already we have had two fatalities and we struggle to separate the sick from the healthy, taking them to a portion of the city we’ve reserved for such an outbreak where our healers care for them. Two healers have fallen ill while performing their work. I fear it will spread and more of my people will die. There are currently thirty cases that we know of.

I have sealed Dale’s walls. Your dwarrow here have assured me they cannot fall to such an illness. They are returning to the mountain as they will find little custom here for some time. The less traffic there is around the city, the less the illness will spread.

Please, keep Sigrid in Erebor. She will argue. She will want to help. We lost her mother to such an epidemic when she was too young to take on the roll she did, caring for a younger brother and a younger sister who was little more than an infant. Tell her we are healthy as of right now and I will send word if there is a change. I would ask you to keep her safe from this.

-Bard

“Trust the man not to use his title,” Dis murmured with a smirk as she read over Fili’s shoulder even as her brow furrowed in concern.

“What does it say?” Sigrid asked softly.

“Your family is well,” Fili told her and some of the tension drained from her shoulders. “Your father asks that you stay here.”

She was already shaking her head. “I need to help,” she said.

“Two of your healers have already fallen ill,” Fili argued. “Your father won’t risk your life to it as well.”

“I’ll not stay here and do nothing while my family’s lives are at risk.”

Fili took her teacup from her and set it aside before she could drop it. “I’m not asking you to sit here and do nothing,” he told her. “Please stay and help me coordinate our healers to go to Dale and assist yours.”

Sigrid froze for a moment, her lips parted slightly. “I can’t ask you to do that,” she finally said as more awareness returned to her eyes.

“Whether you ask or not, I’m sending our healers. Dwarrow aren’t susceptible to the ailments of Men.” When she didn’t respond he took her hands. “Let me help your people as they will be mine soon as well.”

She nodded. “How can I help?”

Fili smiled and pulled her to her feet. “We’ll need to go to Uncle and request to send healers and then coordinate them, create a schedule so we don’t overwhelm Dale’s ability to support them or understaff Oin here in the mountain. Can you write a letter to your father explaining why a contingent of dwarrow healers will be marching on his city?”

“Of course,” Sigrid said. “I’ll write him once I know how many will be going to Dale.”

Fili took her hand and led her out of the room and then to the throne room where Thorin and Bilbo were holding public court for the day. When they walked past the waiting dwarrow, Thorin’s eyes flicked to him briefly before returning to the dam that was speaking to him. Fili stood aside with Sigrid next to him while he waited. Once the dam’s complaint had been handled, Thorin motioned for Fili to approach. Sigrid stayed back as he went to talk to his uncle, explaining the news from Dale and his idea to send aid.

“Nori has already informed us of the illness in Dale. We feared it would spread,” Thorin said quietly so only Fili, Bilbo, and Dwalin would hear. He held his hand over his mouth as he spoke to keep lip-readers from catching any of what he said. “I’ve already asked Oin to draw up a roster of healers that can be spared to help with treating the afflicted. Go to him and he will give you the details you’ll need to send to Bard.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Fili said, bowing his head slightly in thanks. Bilbo caught his eye and sent a small wink.

“Tell Sigrid everything will be well,” he whispered. “She is welcome to spend time in my garden if she misses sunlight during her extended stay, even when I’m not there.”

“I will tell her. Thank you, Bilbo,” Fili said and returned to Sigrid. He relayed the information as they went to Oin’s domain. They were met by controlled chaos in the infirmary as Oin ordered his people around. They received Oin’s details on how many could be spared and Sigrid stayed in the infirmary to draft her letter where she could easily ask Oin if she forgot something or had a question. He asked for the symptoms and Fili handed over the letter Bard had sent him.

“We’ll need help preparing more salves and herbs,” Oin said. “Call for volunteers,” he said to Fili. “We’ll need help with my healers leaving the mountain to treat patients.”

“I’ll help,” Sigrid said, her eyes still on the parchment before her.

“Your Highness, that’s not necessary,” Oin said.

“Nonsense,” Sigrid replied, setting her quill aside for a moment. “They’re my people. I’ll not sit idle when they require aid.”

The old healer smiled beneath his beard and nodded once. He excused himself and went back to work and Sigrid turned to finish her letter. Once she’d sealed it and given it to Oin to send with the healers that were just preparing to leave, Fili led her out of the infirmary and back to the royal wing of the mountain. He relayed Bilbo’s offer and the young woman smiled.

“That’s very kind of him,” she said as they reached the door to her rooms. After Bard had left the mountain she’d decided to take up residence in the rooms she’d inhabit permanently after the wedding, hoping to get used to them before the life-changing event. She walked inside without preamble and nodded for him to come in as well. He did so and closed the door behind him. Technically he shouldn’t be there without a chaperone but he wanted to make sure she was feeling better as she seemed to be.

Fili nodded. “I would take him up on the offer if I were you,” he said. “He doesn’t let just anyone in his garden.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said as she went over to the writing desk she’d had commissioned. She pulled out parchment, quill, and ink. Magnus went straight to the large pillow near the fire that was his bed and curled up.

Fili stepped over to her and touched a hand to her waist. “Ibrizinlêkh, are you all right?”

Sigrid’s eyes remained on the parchment for a moment before she turned to look at him. “I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. “I lost my mum to illness when I was a child when Tilda was a toddler. I’m afraid I’ll lose someone else in my family.”

“We’ll do all we can for your people,” Fili promised her. “I’ll go there myself if I must.”

Her smile shook at the corners, fragile and brittle in her slipping courage. “I know you will, but I will still worry for Tilda, Bain, and Da. I don’t want it to happen again. I don’t know if I can take more loss from a slow killing sickness.” She reached up and wiped a tear away from her face as it tried to reach her chin. “I’m sorry,” she added with a sniff.

“No need to apologize,” Fili said. “Is there anything I can do now? Anything at all?”

Sigrid wiped her palm across her cheek, catching another tear. “May I have a hug please?” she asked in a small, fearful voice. “Just for a moment?”

Fili wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close so her head rested on his shoulder. “I will stay with you as long as you like,” he promised into her hair as she hid her face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t comment when his tunic became damp near her eyes. She leaned back from him a short time later, wiping at the last of the tear tracks on her face. “Better?” he asked as he held her hands in his again.

She quirked a half smile at him with a nod and hesitated for a moment, trying to decide something. Coming to a decision, she took a deep breath, and leaned in to press a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

Fili released one of her hands and gently touched her cheek with his fingertips as they held their position, neither wanting to break the innocent and intimate contact or the reverence of the moment or the underlying comfort and gratitude within it. Her fingers came to rest on his arm near his elbow. The quiet surrounded them, broken only by Magnus’ soft snoring and their own soft breathing. Sigrid’s body relaxed in the moment, and she released a soft sigh before breaking the kiss.

“Thank you for helping me,” she murmured when she opened her eyes mere inches from him.

Fili coaxed her forehead down to lean against his own. “I will always be here Ibrizinlêkh. Never doubt that.”

She kissed him again before stepping away and turning to her desk. “I thought I’d write to my family,” she said. “Will you stay while I do?”

In answer, Fili snagged a second sheet of parchment and quill as well as a chair. He took up position next to her at the side of her large desk and started writing a reply to Bard’s letter. “We can send them with Rork as soon as we’re done.”

~*~*~

Sigrid threw herself into her lessons in order to stay occupied and keep her mind away from Dale and her family. When she wasn’t with Balin and Ori, she was with Fili, training with the sword and her knives and some darts that were weighted the same way her hairpins were.

The times when she didn’t have one of those three tasks to distract her, she headed to the infirmary to help prepare ointments and salves and herbs for the healers. Oin gladly set her to work, stationing her at the same work table where Tauriel often worked. Conversation between the two was quiet and rare, but the silences were comfortable and full of concentration and the satisfaction of being useful.

Every three days a new rotation of healers would head to Dale and those that had been in the city returned. Sigrid made sure she was free to greet them and ask for news from the city. She wrote Tilda often but the younger girl, though she responded promptly, rarely had further information for her as she was kept away from the quarantined portion of the city. The dwarrow were more forthcoming with their information, telling Sigrid how many had fallen ill and if there were any more casualties to the sickness.

Bard sent letters with Tilda’s when he could spare the time but usually, he just scribbled a note at the bottom of his youngest daughter’s letters, assuring Sigrid of their health and safety and imploring her to stay in Erebor, just in case.

Sigrid’s evenings were spent with Fili and his family, usually including Thorin and Bilbo and sometimes other members of the Company dropped by as well. She wrote to her family or talked with the others on occasion, but mostly, she sat on one of the couches, curled up against Fili when he sat in his usual spot with his legs stretched toward the fire. She would embroider or read or talk quietly with him. She found herself in this position on the days where she couldn’t pull her mind away from her worries.

In the third week of her stay in the mountain, Fili and Kili went to the infirmary to retrieve their respected intendeds. Tauriel and Sigrid were sitting side by side, combining ingredients to Oin’s specifications into a tincture that had so far shown some success in fighting the fevers affecting the sick people in Dale.

Fili’s hand on her shoulder brought Sigrid out of her concentration and she leaned back in her chair to look at him. She blinked blearily at him. “Is it that time already?” she asked and glanced around.

“Later actually,” he told her. “The council meeting ran a bit late today. Lord Durfast wouldn’t stop complaining about the number of pets roaming the mountain without leashes.”

Sigrid snorted. “Sour grapes from his daughter being licked into submission by Magnus during our fight no doubt,” she said and yawned. “Let me finish this and we can leave,” she said. Fili pulled a stool over to sit next to her and watched as she carefully combined a few herbs together before adding them to a vial of vinegar. Once finished, they waited for Tauriel to complete what she was working on before the four went to the family rooms for a late meal. Magnus joined them from where Fili had ordered him to stay just outside the infirmary.

“Sigrid?” Dis asked having finally dropped her title at Sigrid’s continued insistence, “Is everything all right? You’ve barely eaten anything.”

Sigrid set her fork down instead of continuing to poke at the demolished but not devoured chicken pot pie on her plate. “I’m sorry. I just don’t seem to have an appetite tonight.”

Fili’s hand touched her elbow to get her attention and she looked over at his obviously concerned face.

She quirked a slight smile at him. “I haven’t heard from Tilda in a day or two. I’m just a bit worried.”

Dinner ended shortly after and Sigrid took up her spot on the couch next to Fili once he’d settled. She leaned against him slightly and settled in to work on the hem of the dwarrow style tunic she was making for Tauriel, working discreet little, flowing curves into the distinctly dwarrow motif that often adorned the edges of their clothing.

“Sigrid? Are you sure you’re all right?” Fili asked after she cursed again when a tremor shook down her spine.

“Just cold,” she said. “I can’t seem to get warm.”

Fili gave her a nudge until she didn’t lean on him anymore and he left for his rooms, returning a short time later with a blanket. He threw it over her legs and took his seat again, wrapping one of his warm arms around her shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead and froze.

“How are you cold?” he asked. “Your skin feels almost as warm as my workshop when I’ve had the forge lit all day.”

Sigrid looked at Fili confused. “I’m not warm. I’m freezing,” she said and she reached up to touch her forehead and frowned. “Maybe I’m wrong.”

Tauriel looked up from across the room, touching her fingers to Kili’s lips to stop whatever comment he was about to make. Contrarily, he bit down on her fingertips gently. Tauriel flicked his nose before she came over to Sigrid and sat on the edge of the couch next to her and placed her fingers on Sigrid’s forehead briefly before dropping her hand to Sigrid’s neck, feeling her pulse.

“Get her to bed,” the elf said. “She’s running a fever. If we hurry, we may be able to keep the illness from affecting her too badly.”

“What? No. I can’t be sick,” Sigrid protested. “The disease is confined to Dale. I couldn’t have gotten it.”

“You’ve been around healers that have been in and out of Dale for weeks,” Tauriel said as she took the embroidery from Sigrid’s numb fingers. “Dwarrow may not fall ill to human disease but they can still carry it. You probably acquired it from one of them.”

Sigrid let her head fall back against Fili’s shoulder with a groan. “This can’t be happening. I’m not sick with whatever is in Dale,” she whined as panic started to flare in her.

“Up you go Ibrizinlêkh,” Fili ordered her, nudging her until she sat up straight. He was soon pulling her gently to her feet and wrapping an arm around her waist to help support her as they walked out of the room and into the hall. Fili paused, turning to a guard. “Send for Master Oin. Have him come straight to Princess Sigrid’s rooms,” he ordered before walking again. The guard ran the other direction.

Tauriel, Kili, Dis, and Magnus followed them, the younger prince opening the door to Sigrid’s room so Fili didn’t have to let go of her. Now that it had been mentioned, fatigue ate at Sigrid. She barely had the strength to walk into the bedroom and step behind a screen and let Tauriel help her into a sleeping shift before she climbed into the oversized bed. Magnus sat next to her, his head resting on the edge of the bed as he stared up at her.

“I’m all right boy,” she said, patting him. He heaved a sigh and didn’t move, just shifted his eyes to look over at Fili who took a position on the edge of Sigrid’s bed near her feet. Kili and Dis hovered in the doorway as Tauriel made herself at home, pouring water for Sigrid and adjusting pillows so the young woman could comfortably sit upright.

“Oin will be here soon,” he assured her, placing a hand on her blanket-covered shin. True to his words, the old dwarf soon arrived, shoving his medical bag at Fili and shooing him aside so he could get to Sigrid.

“What seems to be the problem, hmm?” he asked as he placed his hand against Sigrid’s forehead.

“Just a fever,” she said loudly with a yawn. 

“No appetite either,” Tauriel added, “and fatigue.”

“Feeling nauseated?” Oin asked. Sigrid shook her head. “Open,” he ordered, looking at her mouth. She did so and he looked inside, bringing a lit lantern close to her face so he could see better. After a moment he leaned back and set the lantern on the side table again. “If it’s whatever is sweeping through Dale its early stages still. We’ll know more in the next few hours or so. Someone will need to stay with her. Send for me the moment something changes.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Fili said.

“I will stay when you need a break,” Tauriel said. “You’ll need to sleep at some point and attend to your duties. I do not require sleep.”

Fili nodded. 

“I’m fine, really,” Sigrid protested. “Let me get some sleep and I’ll be fine in the morning.”

“Sleep will do you good,” Oin agreed. “Drink as much water as you can. Your fever is low enough that I don’t want to give you anything for it yet. With any luck, it will burn out anything harmful before you can get any worse. I’ll come back in the morning if I don’t hear from anyone sooner.” He took his leave.

Sigrid sunk back on her pillows, rubbing a hand down her face as Tauriel went to talk to Kili and Dis. The three left her rooms soon after and Sigrid looked over at Fili. “They leave us alone a lot,” she commented and he grinned at her.

“I think they trust we won’t get up to anything improper while you’re sick,” he said and looked around him. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

“Another blanket?” she said. “I’m still cold.”

He left the room for a moment and returned with the blanket she kept thrown over one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. He spread it over her and then pulled a chair up next to her. “Better?” he asked as he sat down.

“Yes, thank you,” she said as the weight of the blanket pressed on her a little more, adding comfort as well as more warmth.

“Anything else?” he asked.

She smiled shyly at him. “Will you sing for me?” she asked. “It’s been a while since you have and I miss hearing you.”

Fili smiled. “You’re freer with your requests when you’re ill. I’ll sing for you if you’ll try to sleep.”

“If I must,” she said and watched as Fili got up and blew out the lamps lit around her room, leaving the fireplace and a single dimmed lantern as the only light sources before he retook his seat. 

“Sleep, Ibrizinlêkh,” he coaxed, running his fingers down the burning skin on her cheek. “I’ll be here when you wake.” She closed her eyes as he started to sing for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and kudos! You're all wonderful and I can't wait to hear from you!


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid sleeps.
> 
> Fili can't sleep.
> 
> Oin can still run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos. It's midnight somewhere so I'm updating now.
> 
> Please leave more comments and kudos.
> 
> Warning: descriptions of somewhat disturbing hallucinations and gory violence.
> 
> Please don't kill me for this chapter.

Chapter 18

She dreamed of fire. Of drowning. Of snow and ice. Of blood in blond hair. Of dead sons of Durin. She screamed her anguish as she fought to reach a high cliff where she could see blond braids hanging over the edge, blood dripping from them and she shrieked his name, begging him to live.

Darkness took her on occasion only to be replaced by more horrors.

Sometimes she heard people talking in hushed voices. Most of the time a large callused hand held her own until the dreams returned, dragging her into images of falling, spiraling, dropping into deep, frigid waters that burned her skin. She called for him in desperation, choking on water that wasn’t there but somehow still filling her lungs.

Dragons flew past, burning Dale. Tearing the mountain apart. She called for him, searching in the rubble and fire.

Sometimes she thought she saw her mother lying next to her, skin as pale and glistening with sweat as the day she died.

“Why couldn’t you live?” Sigrid demanded. “Why did you leave me to raise Bain and Tilda when I was still a child?”

Her mother’s dead eyes stared back at her and she didn’t answer. She raged and tried to reach for the woman. Someone held her hands, held her down, tried to calm her. She ignored him and regretted it but couldn’t stop demanding answers that never came, fighting against the restraining hold until darkness pulled her mother away from her. She wept bitterly at the loss.

She gagged and choked as someone poured frozen fire down her throat. A voice, familiar and warm but oddly pleading, asked her to drink. She knew the voice. Trusted it. “Why?” she asked in pain, startled at the broken sound of her own voice.

“It will help,” the voice said. She drank, fighting against the instinct to spit it back out. When there was no more, she asked for him. For the first time, she heard him clearly but seemingly from a great distance.

“I’m here, Ibrizinlêkh. Please come back to me.”

“I’m trying,” she rasped. “Stay. Help me find you.”

She thought she heard him say more but couldn’t understand the words. A language she was learning and not very well.

Darkness again for a timeless minute.

Orcs stormed her home, killing Tilda and Bain and she could do nothing. Dwarrow charged them only to be cut down in front of her. They dragged her father’s head in front of her and she vomited up what little was in her stomach, bile burning up her dead throat. She begged him in a voice gone to screaming for help even as he lay dying next to her.

Sweet music washed over her, calming the dreams and she once again let oblivion pull her away from bloodied blond hair for a while.

Someone was brushing her hair away from her face, slight tugs here and there as they braided. She tried to focus on the feeling and the distant voice she couldn’t quite hear. Something about it was important.

Ice and snow returned in a driving blizzard. Wolves attacked, pulling her from her home, dragging her through the snow and she shivered, fighting against them as they held her down and tore at her flesh. She cried out, begging him for help but her voice no longer existed. She could only weep silently as they tore her apart and ice bit into her flesh.

Two voices sang to her, and she fell again into darkness.

~*~*~

Fili sat with Sigrid, refusing to leave her side. He’d stayed the first night in the chair next to her bed and she’d slept peacefully for a few hours. He checked on her periodically as he’d been told to do. In the early hours of the morning, he’d reached over to check her fever and then run from the room, ordering a guard to get Oin again. Her skin burned so much hotter than even just an hour before.

Oin had arrived just in time for her to start screaming, Fili’s name mixed into unintelligible words and cursing and begging him to keep breathing, to live, that she was coming to help. The healer went to work with his assistance and they battled the fever that so suddenly addled her mind in nightmares. She screamed her voice hoarse before subsiding a while later once Oin finally managed to get her to take something that would keep her calm for a while.

It lasted a few hours. Oin talked with him, warning him what to look out for. Tauriel arrived, urging him to go sleep, reminding him he had meetings in a few hours. He refused to leave Sigrid for two days, asking Kili to take his place, arguing quietly with anyone that tried to make him leave in between his attempts to calm Sigrid, giving her the medicines Oin prescribed. He lifted her and turned her when the medicines came back up violently and gave her smaller doses until she dropped off into a quieter sleep.

He wiped the sweat off her arms and face with cool cloths. She screamed as if in pain so he stopped. She continued calling for him, begging him to answer her. He spoke to her the entire time, trying to get her to hear him while he waited for the medicines to take effect and pull her into a dreamless sleep again, to help her heal.

Kili and Dis visited periodically through it all, taking care of Magnus for him, bringing him meals that he picked at but mostly ignored. They spoke to him, to her, offering their support and taking care of his duties so he didn’t have to leave.

He refused to go further than the next room where he would one day sleep after they married. He never slept more than three or four hours at a time, always returning to her side.

“You need to prepare for the worst,” Oin told him after a week. “If her fever continues to rise and she continues to vomit anything we give her, she’ll die.”

“She can’t,” Fili said still sitting next to her.

Hours later, Tauriel shooed him away, telling him he wasn’t allowed back until morning. She’d call him if something changed.

He’d been tossing and turning and dozing in bed for about six hours when Tauriel woke him.

“She’s awake but delusional,” the elf said.

Fili threw his covers aside and rushed into the room only to hear Sigrid ask someone why they couldn’t live. Who was she talking to?

“Why did you leave me to raise Bain and Tilda when I was still a child?”

He sat next to her, taking her hand as he watched her rage at the unseen image of her mother. When she thrashed, reaching to her side, he took her hands and held her as still as possible so she wouldn’t hurt herself. Tauriel left for a while, leaving him to try to reach her while she was conscious. She never responded, no matter how he begged, no matter what he said.

Tauriel returned with a new medicine hours later, telling him it might give her a few moments of lucidity, that he should give it to her and take the time to say his goodbyes while she still had the strength and a voice, just in case. It would also hopefully bring down her fever. It didn’t always work on humans though. She left again and he carefully spooned the mixture into Sigrid’s mouth, propping her up slightly so she didn’t choke too much. He begged her to drink. The first mouthful came back violently.

“Why?” she rasped, her eyes staring somewhere behind him.

“It will help,” he said and gave her more. He kept talking to her quietly as she struggled to drink what was left. When she’d drank it all, he pressed his forehead against her fevered skin. “I’m here, Ibrizinlêkh. Please come back to me,” he murmured as fear gripped him. He refused to let her go as Tauriel had suggested. If he said his goodbyes, would she stop fighting?

“I’m trying,” she rasped. “Stay. Help me find you.”

“I won’t go anywhere, Amrâlimê,” he told her but she didn’t respond and he wondered if she’d heard him. She slept peacefully for a while, giving him hope. It didn’t last long.

She screamed for her family, for him, for Kili and Nori and Bofur and all the others. She cried and begged him for help, to live until her voice was nothing more than a strained whisper. He was honestly surprised it had lasted this long.

Tauriel returned, determined. Kili had told her he’d checked on Fili and Sigrid earlier that day. He worried for his older brother and the anguish lining his body and asked her to do something, anything, no matter how unlikely it was to work. So she sang in Sindarin of peace and healing and health. She gave him lyrics to learn so he could sing to Sigrid as well of the same things. He studied as Tauriel sang and he memorized the tune, devising a counter melody that would complement hers.

Sigrid slept quietly again.

In this rare moment of peace, he reached up and undid her betrothal braid and the long plait of the rest of her hair, just as he’d done twice before since she dropped away from him and into her own fever-addled mind. He brushed it for her and spoke of his desire for her health, of his fear of losing her to this illness. He spoke of feelings he wasn’t sure of yet as he braided her hair again, adding a new pattern to hers, declaring her a survivor. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and hoped that he wasn’t imagining that her skin felt a little cooler, less like heat rolling off his forge.

She started shivering that evening, violent tremors racking her body and her mouth opened in silent screams. Tears dripped from her eyes and into her hair and ears, only a few. She was too dehydrated for much more.

Tauriel returned and told him to sing with her so he did. Sigrid quieted. Tauriel left after a few hours. He kept singing to her, talking to her, begging her to come back, to bring the sunlight back to him.

~*~*~

Fingers tangled in his hair, one gently brushing along his cheek on occasion. He slowly came around, his back aching from his hunched position.

“Amad?” he asked groggily, wondering if she’d come to check on him and Sigrid early in the morning before her duties took her away. The finger stilled against his cheek and he blinked the grit from his eyes and followed the source of the touch.

“Sigrid!” He sat up and she smiled tiredly at him, her eyes barely open but blessedly aware. Her gaze moved deliberately to the table next to him, eyeing the pitcher and the glass. He scrambled to get her some water and carefully helped her sit up and sip. Her skin was mercifully cool for the first time in over two weeks. Once she finally turned her head away from the cup, he settled her back into her pillows and set the glass back in its place. He took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her fingers.

It wasn’t enough. He shifted from his chair to the edge of her bed and leaned over to press a grateful kiss to her forehead before replacing his lips with his own forehead, staring into her exhausted blue-grey eyes and murmuring prayers of thanks to Mahal and any other listening Valar for her life.

Her fingers brushed against his arm again after a moment, drawing his attention. She eyed the stack of paper next to the water pitcher.

“Letters from your family,” he said. “We’ve kept them updated. I’ll send a letter as soon as Oin has had a chance to see you.”

She smiled at him, her eyes slipping shut again and her face slackened into a peaceful sleep. Once he was sure she wasn’t about to start trying to scream again he raced to the door and informed a guard to send for Oin and Tauriel.

The old healer arrived at a surprisingly quick run for a dwarf his age. But then, he’d been able to keep up when they’d run through goblin town and away from wargs and from a dragon. Fili really did need to give him more credit.

“How is she, lad?” Oin asked as he stepped up to the bed.

“Her fever’s down,” Fili said and couldn’t bring himself to even disguise the relief in his voice. “She woke and drank some water. She was entirely aware. No hallucinations. She didn’t try to talk though.”

Oin didn’t even glance at him as he felt Sigrid’s head and checked her pulse. Finally, he sat back. “The worst seems to have passed,” he said. “I’ll stay until she next wakes. Go sleep, lad. I’ll let you know when she comes to.” The old healer stood and went to the door to send a runner to the infirmary so his workers would know where to find him if an emergency arose that required him.

While he was gone, Fili took Sigrid’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Ibrizinlêkh,” he murmured against her skin. He glanced toward the sitting room. Oin was still out of sight. He bent and kissed Sigrid carefully, not wanting to open any of the cuts along her cracked lips if he could avoid it but needing the reassurance of the contact. Her hand shifted in his, tightening slightly as she breathed a peaceful sigh. He pulled away, kissed her knuckles one more time, and set her hand back on the bed beside her.

Tauriel smiled at him when she entered and he nodded as he went into his future room and collapsed onto the bed, falling instantly asleep.

~*~*~

An indeterminable amount of time later, Tauriel shook him awake. He blinked in confusion and then surged upright without a word. He sprinted for the adjoining door and into Sigrid’s room.

When he entered he breathed a sigh of relief. Sigrid sat up amongst her pillows, exhaustion evident in the very set of her body but her eyes were still clear and she was still smiling a little at him. Oin was just finishing examining her.

He read his name on her lips and heard the barest whisper and the last bit of fear drained from him. She recognized him, didn’t see some ghost as she had on occasion when she’d opened her eyes.

“None of that now,” Oin ordered. “No trying to talk for a day at least. You’ve lost your voice to screaming.” He felt along her jawline, nodding at what I found. “Make that at least a week.”

Sigrid looked sheepish and nodded.

“No need to feel guilty dear,” Oin said as he started replacing some of his medical equipment. “You are not to blame for it.” He looked at Fili. “Keep a close eye on her. Let me know if she relapses. Give her clear fluids, let her sleep, maybe some broth if she thinks she can handle it. I’ll come to check on her again in a few hours.”

Sigrid’s emphatic nod made Fili chuckle. “I’ll take care of her Oin,” he promised and the old healer left, Tauriel trailing after them with a parting smile and wave. Once they were gone, he settled in the chair by her bed and took her hand as she made a grabbing motion at him. “You have no idea how glad I am you’re awake,” he told her fervently.

She scanned the room until her eyes hit the desk and she pointed. He looked, wondering what she wanted and then glanced back at her. She mimed writing.

“Oh! Good idea.” He retrieved her a piece of chalk, a slate, and a dust rag. He handed them over to her once he took his place on the chair again. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

_Tired_ , she wrote. _Oin said I’ve been sick for a while now?_

“It’s been a little over two weeks since you first got the fever,” he told her and her jaw dropped. “What do you remember?”

She scribbled down a few things and handed him the slate. _Not much. Nightmares mostly. I guess some of when I screamed in my dreams it was out loud. I’m sorry if you had to hear any of it._ When Fili handed back the slate so she could write more but refused to meet her eyes, she cringed and wrote again. _How much of it were you here for?_

“Most of it,” he admitted. She dropped her chalk and covered her face. “Sigrid it’s all right,” he said and pulled her hands away, ducking his head down until she was forced to look at him. “Please don’t be ashamed. You needed someone here. I volunteered willingly. I just wish I could have done something to keep you from seeing so many awful things.”

_I remember seeing my mother,_ she wrote after clearing the slate.

“You spent a good afternoon yelling at her,” he said.

She frowned. _What else? I remember Smaug attacking, orcs and wargs and wolves. I remember looking for you._

“You did your fair amount of shouting for me,” he said and swallowed back the memory of his anguish as she begged him to live.

_I can imagine some of what I said. Screamed? My throat hurts like I’ve been screaming._

“Yes screamed. It took you a few days but eventually, you’d screamed so much your voice disappeared. It’s a bit disconcerting to watch someone scream at the top of their lungs but for no sound to come out.”

_I’m sorry._ She paused after showing him the two words and then wrote some more. _Why did you stay? I’m sure Oin had an apprentice or something that could have stayed with me._

“You had me worried,” he said honestly, staring her in the eyes. “I was afraid I’d lose you. Tauriel even had me give you something to bring you around enough to say goodbye.”

_Did you? I don’t remember that._

He shook his head. “Couldn’t bring myself to. I just tried calling you back.”

_That I remember._

Fili tried to discreetly suck in a breath. “All of it?”

_I don’t know. I remember you telling me to drink something that burned and froze at the same time, that it would help and then telling me you were here. You called me ~~Ibri~~ Sunshine again and called me back._

“Ibrizinlêkh,” he told her as he stole her chalk and wrote it in Westron and then the runes for it on the corner of her slate. “Most of it then.”

She took her chalk back. _There was more?_

He hesitated. He knew what he’d said, what she apparently couldn’t remember. Had he really meant it or was it the fear of losing his best friend that had forced the endearment from his lips. “Nothing of consequence,” he said, unable to answer the question clearly to himself.

She hid a yawn behind her hand. _I’m tired._

“I see that.”

She glared at him halfheartedly. _How is my family? Please tell me they haven’t caught this._

“Not that we’re aware of but they are very worried about you. I think Bard has been tempted to unseal the city gates just so he could come to you.”

_I should write them._

“I’ll send Rork with a message,” he promised. “You should get some rest. You can write to them when you’re more awake. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

_You don’t need to stay._

He took her free hand in his. “You scared me,” he said quietly, ducking his head and then looked at her from beneath the hair falling in front of his eyes. “May I please stay close? Just until we both feel better?”

She nodded, squeezing his fingers.

Fili cupped her cheek in one palm and pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her as he lingered. “Please never scare me like that again,” he begged softly against her hair.

_I’ll try not to_.

He read her note when he sat back in his chair. “Why don’t you drink some water and then sleep some more?” At her nod, he handed her a full cup and took her slate and chalk. After she’d drained her glass, he helped her shift until she was lying down again. She curled up on her side and looked up at him with a tired smile. “Sleep Ibrizinlêkh.”

She reached out and brushed against his hand tentatively with one finger. He turned his hand so she could lace their fingers together if she wanted. She slid her trembling hand into his and then relaxed slightly. “I’ll keep the nightmares away,” he promised her and watched as her lips curled up and the stressed lines in her forehead smoothed out. She dropped off seconds later. He only let go of her hand long enough to send Rork to Dale with a letter to her father, telling of her recovery, before returning to his place at her side and his grip to hers.

~*~*~

Oin refused to let Sigrid leave her bed for a few days. When she finally did, she rejoiced at the new freedom, walking to dinner in Fili’s family’s rooms. After dinner, she took up her seat on the couch next to Fili and fell asleep leaning against him. She woke briefly when he placed her in her bed, still clothed minus the soft shoes she’d worn. Thankfully, she’d put on a very simple dress, hoping she’d be forgiven for not wearing the more elaborate ones she typically did when joining the royal family. She hadn’t had the strength for anything more elaborate. No one had seemed to mind, just happy to see her up and about.

“Fili,” she rasped and he caught her hand.

“Hush now,” he told her. “No talking, remember?”

She smiled and lifted her arms to him. Bemused, he bent to receive her hug, wrapping an arm around her waist in return. She kissed him, lips brushing against the corner of his mouth before releasing him and laying back.

“I’m going to start teaching you Iglishmek tomorrow,” he threatened and received an exhausted nod. “I’ll be next door Ibrizinlêkh.” He left her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.
> 
> Please leave comments.
> 
> Please leave kudos.
> 
> Please leave prompts.
> 
> I'm doing Nanowrimo for an original work this month. Feel free to find me there. I'm Agent_Snark there too.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid resumes lessons.
> 
> Magnus doesn't want to get up.
> 
> Fili gets in a fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Tuesday somewhere. Let's get this up now.
> 
> I love you all! I've had so many amazing comments this week and many from people that haven't commented on this fic before. You're all wonderful! Thank you so much!
> 
> Please don't kill me for screwing with the original Tolkien a little.
> 
> Warning for somewhat descriptive violence in this chapter.

Chapter 19

Sigrid slowly regained her strength and her voice. She spent much of her time in her rooms, usually with Fili as company. He rarely left her side at first, seemingly desperate to make sure she was truly recovered. They spent talking and working with Magnus, teaching the dog new tricks, including having him fetch certain things by name, opening doors that had a latch instead of a doorknob, and expanding on his tracking skills.

She wrote letters to her family when she was finally able to stay awake and concentrate long enough. She apologized for worrying them and not writing sooner. She’d read the letters they’d sent while she lay in delirium and guilt stabbed at her with each one, reading the fear and worry between the lines of Tilda’s, Bard’s, and even Bain’s messages. She spent a bit of time crying over some of them. Each time tears started dripping down her cheeks Fili would gently take the letter from her and hand her a handkerchief until she recovered and could continue reading.

The times Fili was quite literally dragged away by Kili or Balin, Sigrid often found her way to Bilbo’s rooms and into the garden just outside them when she had strength. The hobbit let her help with some of the easier tasks when she was feeling strong enough. Otherwise, she found a sunny bench to sit on and read or worked on some embroidery. She drifted off into a nap a time or two, her face turned up towards the sun.

It was one such day when Ori found her. He spoke a greeting in khuzdul and she returned it with a smile, setting her book aside. With Bilbo toiling in a nearby flowerbed, she resumed language lessons. About two weeks after she’d first woken, she sat with Ori as she tried to memorize new words. She sat back to take a break from the words in front of her.

“Ori?” she asked to get his attention. He looked up from the book he was studying.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What does Amrâlimê mean?”

Ori’s smile was kind. “I take it Prince Fili said that to you?”

Her brow furrowed. “I think? I was delirious with fever but I think I remember him saying it.”

Ori patted her arm fondly. “You should ask him. I’m sure you’d much rather hear that particular translation from him.”

She frowned but nodded.

“It’s about time for lunch,” Bilbo called a moment later as he stripped his gloves from his hands. “Fili should be about done with his meetings. Would you like me to take you to him?”

“Please,” Sigrid said fervently. “I need to get away from the same few rooms, not that they aren’t lovely.”

“You just feel cooped up,” Bilbo said understandingly. “Come with me. I’ll show you the way.”

They reached the council rooms just as the meeting let out. Fili and Kili exited together, their heads bent as they talked over something, identical mischievous grins on their faces. When they realized Sigrid was waiting, Kili elbowed his older brother in the side, gave Sigrid a wink, and turned down the hall, presumably to go find Tauriel. Bilbo stepped away from Sigrid and into the meeting room where Thorin stood talking to Balin. The hobbit ducked under the dwarf’s arm and settled into place as if he’d always belonged there.

Fili turned his wide smile to her and she couldn’t help answering it with a shy one of her own, conscious of all the eyes on them as curious dwarrow watched them as they left the council room as well. “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said as he reached up and pulled her down for a kiss. “It’s good to see you up and about Ibrizinlêkh.”

“I missed you,” she confessed, “and I needed a break from my lessons.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist with a laugh and drew her closer until she stood flush against him. He shifted his hips just to the side to create a little space but her cheeks burned at the intimacy of the close embrace in such a public area. “I’ve missed you too,” he murmured, reaching up to place his hand on her cheek. A cough interrupted whatever he was about to say and he turned, pivoting on one heal and keeping his arm wrapped around her and his hip pressed against her thigh. No one was looking at them and Fili cast a sheepish look at Sigrid. “Let’s go find some lunch,” he said. She followed gladly when he tugged at her waist. Once they were walking, he released her but took her hand in his easily.

“Are you sure you’re ready to be out in public areas?” he asked her quietly.

“I need a change of scenery,” she said.

He snorted. “I imagine but you do realize you’re a fairly easy target, don’t you?”

She looked down at him, confused. “Easy target for-”

Pain flared across her cheek. She turned sharply to glare at the dam that had just slapped her. “Princess Sigrid of Dale called Wolfsbane, I Challenge you for the Courtship of Fili, Son of Dis, Crown Prince of Erebor.”

With a sigh, Sigrid looked at Fili again. “Next time I get the brilliant idea to walk around before I’ve fully recovered from a deadly illness, give me a good smack on the back of the head and tell me I’m a fool and to go hide back in bed.”

“Duly noted,” Fili said with a grin at her. “Maybe next time I’ll just make sure you stay in bed.”

Sigrid turned back to the dwarrowdam, ignoring the wicked grin gracing Fili’s face. “I take it you arrived in Erebor with the last caravan, Lady…”

“Ebni, Daughter of Efni. Yes, I did. What of it?”

“Lady Ebni,” Sigrid said politely. “If you are serious about your Challenge, I’ll meet you in the eastern training grounds in two hours.”

The dam nodded once, turned, and walked away. Murmuring broke out amongst the few witnesses and soon dwarrow were heading in all directions to spread the word of the upcoming Challenge.

“By the way, where’s Magnus?”

“Lazy dog wouldn’t leave the sunshine in Bilbo’s garden. He’s going to have to now.” Sigrid turned back toward the royal wing.

“So what’s your plan,” Fili asked quietly. “You’re not nearly fit to fight and I’m sure word has passed around about how you relied on Magnus in your last fight so she’ll be ready for that.”

“I have no doubt,” Sigrid said yawning. “I think I’ll eat a quick lunch and then go have a nice nap before I risk my life against some dam that thinks she deserves my place by your side.”

“I do love when you stake a claim on me,” he said with an exaggerated leer.

“Not on you, just on your hand in marriage.” She yawned again.

Fili patted her back. “Go drag Magnus from the sun. I’ll have some food sent to your rooms and meet you there.”

Sigrid did as he suggested. He was waiting for her in her rooms by the time she arrived, a tray of food set on the table in her sitting room. They ate the meal together in companionable silence before Fili ushered her into her room where he left her. She pulled off the dress she wore, taking out pins and loosening ties before climbing into her bed. She fell asleep quickly.

It felt like she blinked and Fili was shaking her awake. “Almost time to go,” he told her and pressed a kiss to her cheek before leaving her room again.

With a sigh, Sigrid got up and went to her closet. She’d fought against Dwalin and Lady Burfastr in a dress. She had no illusions about her current abilities and went for the trousers she’d brought with her that she normally reserved for riding Nutmeg as well as a shirt and snug jacket. Thus clothed and feeling uncomfortable but thankful for the easier range of motion, she pulled on her boots, put on the sheathes for her throwing knives and the knives themselves, and strapped her sword to her waist. She went to the box of jeweled pins Fili had given her for a second courting gift and opened it. She’d discovered the little secret he’d also given her and went for the handful of unadorned pins inside, swapping out the plain ones already in her hair for the lethal ones. She scrubbed at Magnus’ fur for a moment.

“What do you think boy?” she asked him. “Are you ready for another fight?”

Magnus licked her from chin to forehead in response.

“Good boy,” she said with a smile. She stood straight and signaled for him to watch her and be on guard. Fili waited for her in the sitting room, his expression grim.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his eyes taking in the slight marks at wrists and ankles where the throwing knives rested before slowly traveling up her legs to the sword at her waist and then flicking up to her hair. “I’d say you are.”

“As ready as I’m likely to be,” she said as she headed out the door. They walked to the arena in silence, trying to ignore the noise that grew in volume as they approached. When they stepped through the open archway a deafening roar went up amongst what seemed like three-quarters of the mountain.

Fili laughed. “You’ve gotten popular,” he said with a grin. “Go on, give them a wave.”

“Maybe after I win,” she said, feeling a bit nauseated with nerves.

Fili caught her hand and pulled her to a stop before she could enter the ring. “I have no doubts in your abilities but take this for luck,” he said and handed her a sheathed long dagger. She nodded and added it to her belt. “We’ll start double sword lessons when you’re feeling up to it.”

“Thank you,” she said and tried to smile. Only one side of her mouth tipped up and she winced at how unconvincing it felt, even to her.

Fili surged up onto his toes and grabbed her neck to pull her down for a heated kiss. Sigrid tucked her own hands into the hair at the back of his neck and sank willingly down to his height, needing the contact, the reassurance of his hold. A spark of alarm flared in her mind as she felt him clutch at her in desperation, sweeping his tongue into her mouth for a blissful, terrifying moment before nipping at her bottom lip and pulling away. Most of the dwarrow in the stands cheered and cooed their approval. A few jeered.

“Go show them all your devotion Ibrizinlêkhê,” he murmured against her lips and pressed into another brief, frenzied kiss. He broke away, tapped his forehead to hers gently and reluctantly let his hands slide down her sides to her hips.

“I’ll come back to you Darling Fili,” she said and kissed his forehead. She stood straight and walked into the ring, Magnus at her side. She signaled for the dog to stay back but to guard. He took a post near the railing where Fili stood watching.

The dam Ebni entered the ring as well, a large wolfhound at her side. With growled khuzdul, she ordered the dog away and it slunk over to a corner to wait. Dwalin of all the dwarrow guards possible stepped into the center of the ring to announce the fight.

“Ready?” he asked Ebni once he finished with the formalities. The dam strapped a helmet on and raised a gauntleted hand.

Dwalin turned to Sigrid and if she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn he was concerned for her. “Ready Your Highness?” he called.

She raised her left hand, placing her right on her sword hilt.

“Begin!” the large dwarf barked and backed away to the railing.

Ebni roared something in khuzdul and the wolfhound charged. Sigrid sidestepped as Magnus raced in front of her without prompting. He barreled into the other dog, head low at first and then coming up sharply as he twisted around to wrap his jaws around the other dog’s neck and drive it to the ground where he held it.

The moment Magnus passed Sigrid, she sprinted after him, dodging around his back at the last second to meet Ebni’s two-handed battleax with her sword, shoving the dam’s initial swing to the side and kicking out. Her leg jarred on the metal plate armor over the dam’s stomach and she skipped back out of range before darting back in, pulling one of her throwing knives on her wrists out of its sheath. She swung her sword at the dam’s side and when the ax moved to block, she stabbed in with the smaller blade, sinking it in between the pauldron and breastplate. The blade skittered across chainmail. She started to curse.

The ax’s haft slammed into Sigrid’s stomach and she doubled over as she backed away, retching. She kept her eyes up and danced out of Ebni’s reach even as she heaved for breath. She twisted to the right, leading the dam away from the dogs. When she’d recovered enough, she darted in again, feinting with the knife towards the opening of her barbut. When Ebni raised her arms to block the blow, Sigrid slashed at her right knee. Her sword grated across the polyen. Ebni stumbled and Sigrid danced away again, heading to the right.

They danced around each other, darting in back and forth. Sigrid panted for breath, fatigue gnawing at her bones. She needed to end this soon.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” Ebni asked. “You can’t be tiring already.” She swung her ax, and Sigrid parried with the knife. It spun out of her hand and across the arena floor.

Curse her, she wasn’t even winded. “I can do this all day,” Sigrid gasped and dashed in again, aborting the move at the last second. Ebni followed and staggered when her knee gave slightly.

Sigrid smacked the flat of her sword on the helmet with all her upper body strength, pivoted around Ebni, ducked the wild swing of her ax, and ended up behind the dam on one knee. She yanked a pin from her hair as she moved and drove it into the unprotected back of Ebni’s right thigh. The dam dropped like a stone, twisting and swinging. Sigrid staggered back but still caught the blade across her arm, opening a gash.

Ebni rolled to her hands and knees and tried to stand. Too tired to go on much longer, Sigrid grabbed another pin from her hair and threw it, burying it in Ebni’s thigh. She pulled the other three pins from her hair and threw them, two found their mark in the dam’s left leg. The fifth missed, glancing off greaves.

“Just stay down,” Sigrid ordered when Ebni screamed in pain but still pushed herself away from the floor. Gasping, Sigrid drew Fili’s dagger, reversed her grip and slammed the hilt into Ebni’s barbut with all the force she could muster and the dam staggered. Sigrid kicked at the sharp pins in the back of her legs and Ebni whined something brokenly before dropping her battleax.

“Yield,” Sigrid growled, stepping up onto Ebni’s shoulder with one foot and leaving the other on her leg, keeping steady pressure on the pins. She placed her sword on the slim line of flesh under the barbut’s edge.

Ebni cursed her in khuzdul.

Sigrid applied pressure to her neck. “That does you no good,” she panted. “Master Ori hasn’t taught me any curses yet.”

“You will pay for this, human filth,” Ebni snapped.

“Pay for what? Beating you in fair combat? Or for marrying the Crown Prince?”

Ebni snarled more khuzdul.

“I’m really going to need someone to teach me how to swear,” Sigrid sighed. “Would you yield already or do I need to hamstring you?”

More cursing.

“You brought this on yourself,” Sigrid said, switched the grip on the dagger and bent to slice into the exposed tendons on the dam’s legs.

“Fine! I yield!”

Sigrid stepped down. “Call off your dog,” Sigrid said, glancing over at where Magnus still kept the wolfhound pinned. She could see scratches on his belly but nothing looked serious considering the lack of large amounts of blood. Once she had, Sigrid called Magnus over to her.

“I can’t believe I have to do this again,” she growled. She turned her attention to the cheering and jeering crowds as medics came to haul Ebni from the ring. “Keep this in mind, all those who would Challenge me!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, “I was literally on death’s doorstep two weeks ago and I can still win a fair fight against a fully armored dwarrowdam without help from my dog. So who’s next? I will answer any Challenge for Prince Fili’s courtship! He is _my_ intended and no one will change that but him!” She silently pleaded that no one would call her bluff. She was weary to the bone.

The cheering intensified as Fili vaulted over the railing and crashed into her, pulling her into his arms and kissing her fiercely. “You have got to stop claiming me publicly,” he said after separating, his face flushed and his pupils were blown wide. He crushed her to him again, quite happily licking his way into her mouth. She didn’t protest, unsure if she was just too tired to do so or if she liked the enthusiasm. Whatever the case, few in Erebor would doubt there was true affection between them now as he gleefully explored her mouth in public.

“I Challenge Fili, Son of Dis, Crown Prince of Erebor for the courtship of Sigrid, Daughter of King Bard the Dragonslayer of Dale, Princess of Dale, called Wolfsbane.”

Silence spread through the crowd as Sigrid broke from Fili to look at the voice’s source. A dwarf, burly and dark haired and strong looked at her with a smirk as he entered the arena floor and she swallowed. She hadn’t expected that.

 

 ~*~*~ 

 

“Finally!” Fili crowed as he tugged Sigrid over to where Kili stood by the railing with Tauriel. “I accept your Challenge Agmeld, Son of Brogmel. Get your sorry excuse of a weapon into the ring so I can beat you into the dirt!”

“Hello Sigrid,” Kili greeted her with a grin as he steadied her when she climbed the railing to the arena. “That was a nice win. We’ll make sure you get those pins back once a healer digs them out of Ebni’s legs. The kennel master should be here soon to take Magnus and treat his injuries.”

“Thanks,” Sigrid said absently and turned to Fili. “What’s happening?”

“Same thing that just happened except now I am fighting to court you,” Fili said. “Relax. Enjoy the fight.” He stepped up onto the bottom rung of the railing so he was the same height as Sigrid. He cupped the back of her neck and drew her into a kiss, grinning when she leaned into his hold, her hands landing on his hips. “Much better angle,” he said when they broke apart.

“You better get in there,” Kili said and made a face at his brother. “Show them we sons of Durin are just as strong as our intendeds.”

“Keep an eye on her for me,” Fili said and pressed one last enthusiastic kiss to Sigrid’s lips. “I apologize for anything crude Agmeld says that may involve you. He has a tendency to be rather crass in a fight.” He turned and unsheathed his swords, his grin spreading wider.

“I don’t need protecting,” he heard Sigrid grumble behind him.

“It’s not for your protection,” he called over his shoulder. “It’s for Agmeld’s.” He gave Oin a nod as the healer approached Sigrid with his medical bag, ready to treat her injuries.

The dwarf in question glared at Fili, a large ax in his hands. “I’d watch your tongue if I were you, or does your Princess do that for you?” he leered.

“You dishonor her with your insinuation,” Fili snarled. “I should cut out your tongue for that.”

 “I’d love to dishonor her in other ways.”

Fili smirked. “I will thoroughly enjoy crushing you into the dirt and cutting out your filthy tongue. I’d say I could manage it in less than five minutes but I’m pretty sure you can’t keep your ax up that long.”

“Don’t get overconfident Fili!”

“Yes, Amad!”

“Now show him why it’s not wise to challenge a Durin.”

“At your service, Uncle.”

Dwalin stepped between them, announced the match, checked their readiness, and started the Challenge.

It really was laughably easy for Fili. Used to training against Dwalin and his uncle and any other fighters the two felt he needed to face. This young upstart barely Gimli’s age was no match. Fili toyed with him, knocking the ax aside with one sword and harrying him with the other. They traded insults back and forth and while Agmeld had no qualms of dragging Sigrid into them, Fili refused to use such talk and made sure to land a strong blow with the flat of his blades any time Sigrid was insulted in any way.

When Agmeld alluded to something truly foul involving the young woman, Fili decided enough was enough. When Agmeld swiped at Fili, he ducked into the weapon’s reach, twisted, brought one sword up to catch the ax haft. He drove his elbow up into the dwarf’s chin and yanked backwards at the same time. The ax went skidding onto the floor behind him and Fili advanced, leveling both swords at Agmeld’s throat. “I warned you not to speak of her so shamefully,” he growled and sliced into the dwarf’s neck.

“Wait! I yield!” he cried out as the burning sting registered.

Fili growled again and wiped the blood on his swords on Agmeld’s face, slicing off a bit of beard in the process. “If you ever go near her again, speak of her again in any way less than befits your future queen, I will shave your beard and cut out your tongue,” he snarled. He stepped away, leaving the young dwarf breathing heavily on the ground.

Fili went back to where Sigrid stood, her arm now bound in clean bandages from her bicep to her wrist and smelling of herbs. She reached for him as he came close and he jumped onto the second rail from the top, bent over, and drew her into a searing kiss. The watching dwarrow roared with cheers. He broke away, lifted a hand, and shouted for all to hear. “Are there others that would Challenge me for the right to court this Woman? Come forward for I would be done with you now and be left in peace to revel in her company for the rest of our days for she is Ibrizinlêkhê and no one will take her from me unless by her will.”

The crowds surged to their feet and shouted their approval, khuzdul chants melding together in a cacophony that left his ears ringing.

Nodding, Fili turned back to Sigrid and kissed her again. “Let’s get you back to your rooms and you can rest,” he encouraged quietly and finished climbing the rail.

They walked back to the royal wing, accepting congratulations and well wishes from spectators of the two fights as they went. When they finally reached areas that the public weren’t allowed, they relaxed.

“Next time this happens, let’s convince them to fight us simultaneously,” Sigrid said. “I don’t much like watching you fight. I think I’d prefer fighting alongside you.”

Fili barked a laugh. “I agree,” he said. “It’s hard watching you take on dwarrow in full armor when you’re not wearing a thing to protect your person.”

“I wear protection,” Sigrid protested. “Those hairpins you made me came in very handy, as do the knives.”

“Not if someone is swinging an ax meant to cleave you in two from shoulder to waist.”

“And that’s why a carry a sword,” Sigrid said.

Fili gave her an extremely unamused look coupled with a single cocked eyebrow. “I’m making you armor,” he told her firmly.

“Make some for Magnus. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll have some made for both of you. A matching set.” He grinned at her, the image in his head rather comical.

Sigrid stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Now really,” she said. “I’m perfectly fine without it.”

Fili scowled, all humor leaving him at her sudden stubbornness. “And if you carry our child in you and there’s war?” he asked. “Will you endanger both of you?”

“I won’t be fighting if I carry a child,” she said with color rising in her cheeks, whether from anger or embarrassment he didn’t know, “not unless there is no other choice.”

“Why won’t you wear armor? I would prefer you be protected in any fight you may find yourself in.”

“I don’t wear armor because I can outmaneuver my opponents that do,” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ll not wear plate armor. It’ll slow me down.”

Fili chewed the inside of his cheek. “Chainmail,” he suggested, voice little more than a growl.

Sigrid huffed. “Too heavy. Why does it matter? I only ever fight currently when dams decide they want to marry you.”

“Leather,” he tried again and folded his arms across his chest, “or you will not fight any more.”

“Fili-”

“I’ll not stand idly by and watch you be hurt again,” he said, eyes dropping to her bandaged arm. “You already almost died on me once this month. Let’s try to avoid it again.” He turned to approach the door to Sigrid’s rooms now next to him.

“You know I’ll die long before you.”

He stopped at the quiet despair in her murmur. He spun to stare at her. “What makes you even _think_ that?”

“I’m human,” she reminded him gently. “I’ll live for another seventy years, maybe eighty if I’m lucky. Probably less. You will barely be middle-aged for a dwarf then.”

The bottom dropped out of Fili’s stomach. “No one has told you,” he said as her words sank into his mind and he groaned. “Amad’s going to _kill_ me.”

“Told me what?” Sigrid asked.

“Come inside,” he said motioning at her door. “There’s something you must know before our courtship goes any further.”

Sigrid unlocked her door and strode past him, heading straight for the bright sea blue winged back arm chairs intricately embroidered with tan Oliphants, southern trees, and exotic birds in front of the fireplace. Fili followed and took the one on the left as he had been quite often in the last few weeks of her recovery. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to start referring to it as his.

Once they were both settled, he leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees and linking his hands in front of him as he stared into the low fire. “Shortly after the forging of the world, a dwarf named Buuk traveled much of Middle Earth in search of a dam to love. He had no One but was excruciatingly lonely.”

“I thought we were discussing my imminent death, not having story hour,” Sigrid complained even as she pulled the grey throw blanket Ori had knitted her onto her legs and up to her shoulders. She fussed for a moment with the bulk of her hair, now falling out of the braid she normally kept pinned at the back of her head, until it lay easily over her shoulder near her betrothal braid. He wondered if she would let him rebraid it for her after this conversation, if she’d even want to talk to him again after keeping something so monumental from her, even unwittingly.

“We’re getting to that,” he told her. “The story explains it.”

She nodded for him to go on after tucking her feet onto the seat of the chair. He wondered if she’d like a warm cup of tea, considering her sudden cozy, bundled-up position.

“Buuk finally found his love, a Woman named Inger. Even knowing her short lifespan, he married her anyway but feared for the day she would die. Years passed and Inger grew old. One morning, she did not wake and her skin had gone cold as stone deep in the old mountains in death.

“Buuk was devastated. He wept and plead with Mahal, asking for even a single day more with his beloved. Mahal heard him and the depth of his grief. He forged Inger’s body and soul anew and gave her life again. Mahal extended her life and youth to match Buuk’s. Since then, if any dwarf falls in love with someone of another race and they return the feeling, they receive the length of life of a dwarf at the same rate as a dwarf, starting with their mental maturity. It is rare, and hasn’t happened in living memory, but there are stories and tales.”

Sigrid gaped at him for a moment. “Let me make sure I understand you correctly. If we end up loving each other, not only will I live as long as you, but I’ll age at the same rate as you?”

“That’s correct.”

Sigrid flailed, fighting her way free of the throw and struggling to her feet. She started pacing around the room, muttering to herself. “I’ll outlive my family,” she said at one point, looking at him.

“Unless you are taken in battle, yes. That would be the case.”

She continued pacing. He caught the occasional word but not enough to make any sense of her mutterings. “I would understand if you no longer wanted to continue our courtship,” he said at one point but she didn’t respond.

On one of her walks passed her door, a knock sounded and she reached out to open it without thinking, still pacing by.

“Your Highness?”

She paused mid-step and backed up. “Master Dori, Master Nori,” she greeted surprised and Fili hit his forehead with the heal of his hand.

“I forgot to tell her,” he called and stood to join her at the doorway. “They wanted to do initial fittings this afternoon.”

“I can see that,” Sigrid said and stepped away from the door to let the two dwarrow and a dwarrowdam Fili didn’t recognize into her rooms.

“Right,” she said, shaking her head. She looked at Fili. “Out.”

He paled. He knew he did by the sudden rushing in his ears. Was this her answer? She wouldn’t continue the courtship? There was no point in him being fitted for his clothes for their wedding if there wasn’t to be one.

“Your Highness?” Dori asked her startled.

Sigrid tilted her head to the side before understanding dawned. “It must be a human tradition,” she explained. “The groom can’t see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Now out,” she repeated, giving Fili a shove towards the door. “One of us will find you when we’re done.”

The blood rushed back into Fili’s head as relief flooded him, his heartbeat now pulsing in his ears. “I’ll be in my workshop,” he told her, placed a kiss on her cheek, and left the room, feeling suddenly lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, please don't kill me for screwing with the original Tolkien a little. I just hate the age issue between Sigrid and Fili so I decided to screw with that. Sorry!
> 
> Please leave more wonderful comments and kudos! You all make me so very happy.
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> (No animals were harmed in the writing of this chapter.)


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili says goodbye.
> 
> Sigrid makes a statement.
> 
> Fili writes a letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Over 400 kudos. You have all left me over 400 kudos! You're AMAZING! I feel so loved and honored that you have left such kindness for me. All the comments have just warmed my heart and filled some of my life goals, quite literally. I am humbled by your approval. Thank you all so much. I hope to continue to live up to your expectations in my writing.
> 
> On with chapter 20!

Chapter 20

Sigrid’s strength continued to return slowly and she found herself being thrown into wedding planning. Dori and Nori came to see her and Fili on a regular basis as the oldest Ri brother piled them in and out of their wedding clothes, pinning, cutting, arranging, and generally draping them in layers of fabric. Nori just sat back and watched, occasionally giving his brother or Fili a hard time. For some reason, he didn’t bother tormenting Sigrid until his third visit when she sniped into him first. Then it became a sort of competition of snark between the two of them. As Dori declared parts of their clothing finished, embroidery started appearing in them.

Fili struggled to find time to spend with her. His duties to the kingdom still existed and he had a lot of work to do in order to catch up, considering the amount of time he’d spent at her side while she was ill and recovering. When he wasn’t attending to the good of the kingdom as pertaining to the crown prince’s role, he was typically in his workshop, working diligently on the jewelry for the quickly approaching royal wedding. If he was free for any time, Sigrid was usually busy, head bent over papers with various dwarrow as they discussed the finer points of the wedding and the parties that followed or her lessons in diplomacy and language. Dwalin even now claimed her for an hour every other day or so to train her with her sword. The couple only had evenings to spend together and both were usually even busy after dinner though they still sat with each other, each bent over paperwork and studies.

The rare times they weren’t burdened with work, they sat near the fire talking, learning of each other’s childhoods. Sometimes, Sigrid would convince Fili to play his violin for her. Kili joined in sometimes, a grin on his face as the two brothers danced around each other. Fili convinced Sigrid to sing at times and Kili taught Tauriel some of the lyrics of their favorites and the two girls would sing, weaving harmonies together as the princes played. Their mother listened fondly each time. Occasionally other members of the company would come and listen and sing and play as well.

Physically, their relationship didn’t change. When in the public eye they would share kisses and embraces, but nothing quite as enthusiastic as after the Challenges. No one Challenged them anymore. The rare private moments they shared contained the heated kisses such as ones they’d already shared but never anything more. There seemed a line the two of them were unwilling to cross.

They never spoke directly to each other about the looming wedding unless someone near them asked questions.

No one mentioned the wedding night.

Three months after Bard’s last visit to Erebor, Dale’s gates reopened. The malady that had spread through the still growing city was mostly contained with only a few cases lingering and no one new falling sick in over two weeks. With mixed emotions, Sigrid and Fili exited the stables in Erebor, Nutmeg and Magnus trailing them.

“You’ve been here so long it’s hard to remember that Erebor isn’t your home,” Fili said with a rueful smile. 

“I know,” she agreed and turned to look up at the enormous gates that loomed behind them. “It will be home soon enough. I’m glad I had to stay here for so long though. I feel more comfortable now.”

“I’m glad. You should be.” He took her hands in his, still conscious of the eyes of the guards on them. “Are you sure you don’t want a royal escort back to Dale?”

“I’ll be fine,” she said and lifted an arm to display the pristine vambraces she now wore along with the rest of the leather armor covering her arms as well as the leather coat and stiff, intersecting leather panels that were molded over her shoulders and around her ribs. “I’m armored and everything, not to mention the twenty dwarrow warriors that are going with me.” She eyed the ranks that were forming to march to Dale in order to relieve their fellow fighters currently at the Guard Post there.

“All right, all right. Send a thrush when you make it back so I know you’re safe.” He conveniently forgot to tell her the vambraces and armor had steel plates inside them. Oh darn.

“I will.” Nutmeg shifted behind Sigrid, drawing Fili’s attention for a moment.

“Be safe,” he said as he refocused on Sigrid and tugged her hands so she’d bend for a kiss. He lingered there, savoring the taste of her for a few moments before stepping back. “I’ll miss you,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “I will try to come to Dale soon but I’m so very behind on my work.”

“I understand,” Sigrid said. “I’ll come back as soon as I have my own duties back under control. Write to me?”

“Of course, Ibrizinlêkhê. I’ll even make sure Kili doesn’t read over my shoulder if you’d like.”

“I’ll send him letters of his own so he doesn’t have to,” Sigrid promised, kissing him again. Finally, the picture of reluctance, she let him go. He helped her into the saddle, rubbed Nutmeg’s nose while she got settled, and then ruffled Magnus’ ears. “I’ll return home to you soon,” she promised and gave Nutmeg’s sides a nudge with her feet. The horse started walking and the contingent of dwarrow followed along behind her at her hand signal. 

Fili stared at her gape-mouthed, her words ringing in his ears. He shook himself free of his stupor and took a few moments to admire how easily she sat her horse before returning to the mountain to attend to his duties. Perhaps if he started working late into the nights on paperwork and wedding jewelry he could finish faster and see his Sigrid again that much sooner.

~*~*~

The moment she rode through the main gate, a fanfare sounded and she resisted the urge to cringe. She kept having to remind herself that she was now royalty (and wasn’t that a rather distressing thought). Sigrid lifted her chin and continued through the streets with the dwarrow marching behind her. She arrived at the Guard Post, took care of the formalities there, had Nutmeg stabled, and collected her saddlebag before heading home on foot.

She only made it halfway there before Bain and Tilda came racing up the road, calling her name. She dropped her saddlebag just as Tilda barreled into her, hugging her tightly.

“We were so worried!” the younger girl exclaimed, tears coursing down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Sigrid said and handed the girl a handkerchief. “I didn’t mean to get sick.”

Bain pulled his sisters into a hug, surprising Sigrid. The last time he’d willingly hugged her was shortly after The Battle. “Please don’t do that again,” he said.

“I’ll try not to,” Sigrid promised, her arms wrapping around her siblings. Finally, she nudged them both back. “Where’s Da?” she asked.

Tilda and Bain exchanged a glance and Sigrid felt something sink inside her. “What’s happened?”

“He’s in a council meeting,” Bain said. “Let’s get home and then you can go interrupt it. I think he’d want you to.” He picked up her saddlebags for her and the three walked through the city. 

Once they reached their house, Sigrid went to her room, her siblings trailing after her. She ducked behind a screen to change out of her trousers and into a dress. Tilda came behind the screen to help her with the clothing.

“What’s happened?” Sigrid asked again as Tilda pulled the lacings on her corset tight.

“Do you remember when that man from Gondor came? Denebore or whatever his name was?”

“Yes,” Sigrid said. “Peder had sent out letters inviting men to come calling when Fili was already courting me. He was supposed to send out letters to fix the problem. Why?”

“Apparently he missed one, or so he claims,” Tilda said, giving her laces a good yank.

“He. What.” Sigrid turned to look down at Tilda with wide eyes.

“A Southron named Card has come,” Bain said from the other side of the screen. “We’re not sure exactly what his social rank is or where exactly he’s from other than the south but he wants to court you.”

“Da’s trying to straighten it out,” Tilda added.

“Tilda, don’t tighten that anymore,” Sigrid said. “I have the feeling I’m going to need to be able to breathe when I see Peder.”

Tilda tied off the laces and helped Sigrid into a dress befitting of her station as Princess of Dale in a deep shade of blue close to Durin Blue so favored by the royal family of Erebor instead of the simpler brown one she had planned to wear. Instead of the gaudy coronet given to her at midsummer, she braided half of her hair up into a crown braid and went to the box of hairpins from Fili and used the stars and moons and diamonds to create a circlet in her hair. She left the rest of her hair down and wore her sword and throwing knives. She made sure she wore the silver bracelet of seven stars and the delicate collier Fili had made her for midwinter. With all of Fili’s gifts on her person, minus the leather coat, armor, and vambraces, she looked at her siblings. “What do you think?” she asked. “Too subtle? Should I wear trousers and leather armor?”

Bain grinned at her. “I think you’ll scare Peder into his grave just like this,” he said.

“Let’s hope Lord Card will realize there has been a misunderstanding,” Sigrid said as she stalked out of her room. “I’d hate to muss this dress.”

The walk to City Hall was short and Sigrid seethed the entire way. She could hear Bain and Tilda whispering gleefully to each other behind her but she ignored them. Once inside the building, she strode straight to the council room and shoved both doors open wide without knocking. Faces turned her way, a few shouts and grumbles dying instantly when the men saw her. They took in her clothing and adornments as well as the unbound state of her hair and a shocked and somewhat scandalized murmur passed through them.

“Your Highness,” one of them said. “We did not expect you.”

Sigrid smiled at him, “I hope I’m not interrupting but I need to see my father immediately. Where is he?” Her eyes cast around the room until she saw Peder. She fixed him with her stare and delighted slightly when his throat bobbed as he swallowed. Good. Let him be nervous. “As I understand it, there has been a misunderstanding with a gentleman about whether or not I am unattached and thus in a position to be courted.” She tried to imitate the tone Bilbo used that Fili called his I’m-being-polite-but-if-you-say-one-more-thing-I’m-going-to-stab-you-with-Sting-and-not-regret-it-at-all voice.

“He is in private conference in his office, Your Highness, but you can’t just-”

“Thank you, gentlemen,” Sigrid said over the speaker. “If you’ll excuse me. Oh, and Master Peder, I suggest you stay right where you are. I have a feeling your presence will be required soon.”

She turned on her heal, skirts flaring around her dramatically (thanks to some of Dis’ teachings in royal persona) and she all but stomped from the room. She went to her father’s office and opened that door without knocking as well.

Bard looked up from his desk with a dark scowl and, upon seeing her, jumped to his feet. “Sigrid, My Girl. You’re home!” A smile split his tired face briefly before he saw her expression. “You’ve been told then,” he said, casting a quick glance at Tilda and Bain as they caught up to their older sister. He looked at the man sitting across from him. “Lord Card, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Princess Sigrid of Dale, called Wolfsbane. Sigrid, Lord Card of the Southrons.”

The man stood and turned, his eyes widening at her appearance for a moment before he dropped into a bow, his black hair falling into his dark eyes as he continued to stare at her. “Your Highness,” he said in a deeply accented tenor. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Sigrid inclined her head slightly. “Lord Card,” she said. “I understand you have come to Dale with the purpose of courting me.”

Card’s lips lifted at the corners. “That was my intent, yes,” he said, “but I am told I am too late, that you are already being paid court by the dwarven prince. Is this true?”

“That is indeed the case,” Sigrid said as a little relief started to creep into her. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult after all. “I am sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

Card’s self-confident smile did not falter. “I wonder though if you would truly be happy with him.”

Sigrid bristled. “Forgive me, My Lord,” she said, fighting to keep her tone even, “but I wonder why you would question the loyalty of my heart when you do not know me or my intended. I suggest you rethink your views before you find yourself on the wrong end of dwarfish iron, either at my prince’s hand or my own.”

Card’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so?” he asked mildly. “I think I would like to meet this Prince Fili and judge for myself.”

“You must head to Erebor then as that is where His Highness is,” she said. “Good luck on your journey. If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to talk to my father.” She gave the man an expectant stare as she indicated the door.

He huffed a single breath in what could be considered a scoff before standing. “You are spirited,” he said. “I will look forward to another meeting with you.” His fingers slid down her arm, pausing when they touched the hidden hilts of her throwing knives. “And armed too. Very enticing.”

Sigrid ignored the man even though her skin crawled at his touch. He took his leave and she waited until the door shut tightly behind him before relaxing slightly.

“Da,” she started to say but stopped when Bard practically vaulted over his desk and wrapped his arms firmly around her, burying his face into her loose hair.

“I thought I’d lose you too,” he murmured and her anger drained from her. She returned his embrace and just stood, breathing in the familiar smells of leather, dirt, and fresh cold water that always comforted her as a child, making her feel safe, as if she were home in his arms. It didn’t feel the same anymore and, with a pang of sadness, she realized that her home was no longer with him. Had her short stay in Erebor truly altered her alliances so thoroughly that her father’s arms were no longer her safe place?

“I’m all right Da,” she finally choked out past the lump in her throat. She didn’t know what caused it, memories of her mother or the sudden bereft feeling over the loss of her childhood comfort.

Bard released her only to place his hands on the sides of her head so he could look at her. “You have only been gone three months but you look so much more mature now.”

“It’s the hair,” Sigrid said and touched some of the loose strands. 

“I think it is you and your manner. Something has changed. I take it by your appearance that you were trying to make a statement? Considering all the dwarf related finery you wear and the unbound state of your hair. Or is this how you dress now that you’ve been living among them for months?”

Sigrid blushed as she fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist. “I wanted it to be clear that Fili is my intended and I don’t plan on that changing.”

Bard grinned. “I think you made a point all right. You definitely caught Card off guard.”

“And your council,” Tilda piped up from her position near the door.

“Peder almost passed out at the sight of her,” Bain chuckled. “I think he may have done so when Sigrid told him to stay where he was.”

“Speaking of whom,” Sigrid growled. “I thought he sent out letters to rescind the invitation to come to court me.”

“He claims he missed one,” Bard snarled.

“Of course he did,” Sigrid sighed. “I need to send word to Fili, warn him of Card. Have you addressed Peder concerning the massive mess he’s created or do I need to do it?”

Bard’s grin turned a bit wolfish. “I did but you’re more than welcome to chew into him yourself My Girl.”

“Maybe later,” Sigrid said. “I’m so very tired now.”

Bard wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get you home. Send a thrush to warn your prince on the way.”

“Yes Da,” she said. The family left the City Hall, Bard waving off his aide and informing him that he would be taking the rest of the day for personal reasons and that he was not to be disturbed unless it was a life or death emergency.

Sigrid whistled a thrush down from the trees and sent it with a message, telling it to find the crow Rork to translate the message for Fili.

~*~*~

She enjoyed the afternoon with her family after changing into more comfortable clothing and pinning her hair back into its usual position at the back of her head with plain pins instead of the jeweled ones.

They had just finished supper when a knock sounded on the window and Sigrid opened it.

“Hello Rork,” she greeted when the raven flapped into the room. “Do you have a message for me?”

The bird stuck out a leg and Sigrid gently took the letter strapped there. She extended her arm to the bird. “Come with me and we’ll find you something to eat in the kitchens.”

Rork hopped onto her arm and let Sigrid carry her into the kitchen. The large bird scanned the room with intelligent eyes until she saw what she wanted. She took off again, flapping a bit awkwardly in the confined area before landing next to some small meat pies.

“You’re welcome to eat here,” Sigrid said, “or we can take them into my rooms and you can eat and rest there. I assume Fili requested you wait for a reply from me.”

The raven nudged at one of the pies, pushing it toward Sigrid. She picked it up and held her arm out for Rork again. After grabbing a second pie, she carried the bird to her room where she settled on the corner of Sigrid’s desk to eat her meal.

Sigrid opened Fili’s letter, a sense of comfort rushing through her at the familiar angular lines of his Westron as well as some Cirth mixed in as well whenever he wrote something in his own language, such as the endearment he used for her. She settled on her bed to read.

 

To Sigrid, Princess of Dale, Daughter of King Bard the Dragonslayer, called Wolfsbane

Ibrizinlêkhê,

I have about an hour before my next appointment so I intend to make the most of it by writing to you. Kili is otherwise preoccupied for now as well so there is no concern of him interrupting my letter to you.

Is it odd that the moment you left the mountain it felt empty? You have stayed here for a scant three months and yet, it is as if you belong in these halls, at least to me. It is hard being without my closest friend now. Even as I walked back to my rooms I found myself wanting to talk to you, to point out something humorous, I forget what it was now.

The words I spoke when you left were spoken for our audience’s sake, to satisfy those that were listening for such words. Now, I find them to be true. I miss you, Ibrizinlêkhê. Erebor seems dim without your laugh, without your smile. 

I just read over what I wrote. You were right. I can apparently be very sappy when I want to be. Still, it is all true. I will work hard and see you soon.

Rork has just delivered your warning of the Southron. Do not worry yourself much over him. I will be sure to inform him of his mistake and deal with him in dwarfish fashion if the need should arise. There are many in the mountain that will help. No one will break our agreement unless it is you. I hope you will return soon. There is still much we must do to prepare for Durin’s Day and we are running short on time.

We once spoke of the possibility of loving each other. This feeling of loss, of dusk in my heart when you aren’t near, is foreign to me. Is this, could this possibly be, love? I don’t know. I know I miss holding you in my arms. I miss the taste of you on my lips. I miss your wit and joy. Please return to me soon.

-F

PS Rork will stay until you send her home, with or without a reply.

 

Sigrid set the letter on her lap with a sigh, fingers of her right hand resting on it. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, unaware of the smile on her lips. “Oh Fili,” she murmured and looked down at the words again, reading the letter over a second time, paying particular attention to certain paragraphs. He missed her. She’d left the mountain only six hours ago and he already missed her enough to write her a letter, just to tell her. His words were sappy, true, but also sweet. And his last paragraph. Her cheeks burned when she reread how he missed her taste. The phantom feeling of mustache and beard scraping against her chin flashed through her. Most importantly though, his musings of what he felt held her thoughts.

“What do you think, Rork? Could he love me?” she asked the bird absently as she fell back on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

“Frankly, I think you both are foolish hatchlings that need to grow up and quit flapping around each other.”

Sigrid yelped and lurched up into a sitting position, reaching for one of her throwing knives.

“Put that away,” the croaking voice continued, “before you take someone’s wing off.”

Sigrid blinked at the raven perched on the edge of her desk. “Rork?” she asked.

The bird fixed her with a black eye. “What?”

Sigrid jumped when the word came from the black beak.

“What’s the matter now, Ground Crawler?”

Sigrid slipped the knife back into its sheath on her forearm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you would talk to me.”

“And why wouldn’t I?” The bird pecked at the crumbs of the pie she’d devoured.

“Fili said you and the other crows only talk to his family and the Company that took Erebor back from the dragon.”

“Aren’t you joining the Durin family?”

“I suppose I am but I haven’t yet.”

Rork flapped her wings, somehow conveying a sense of irritation. “You ground crawlers make things too complicated. Just mate with Fili and be done with it.”

“Rork!” Sigrid yelped.

“Your ceremonies and planning are a waste of time.”

Sigrid covered her face with her hands. “Yes, they are long and annoying,” she agreed, “but it is still the proper thing to do and I can’t change anything about it, unfortunately.”

Rork bobbed her head once or twice. “Ground crawlers,” she muttered. “Now, are you sending a letter back to Fili or should I go home now?”

“I’ll send him a letter if you don’t mind waiting. I’ll write to Kili as well.” She went over to her desk and sat, careful not to disturb the raven. She pulled out ink, quill, and parchment before going to work on the younger prince’s letter.

 

To Kili, Son of Dis, Prince Under the Mountain

Kili,

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say goodbye to you and Tauriel before I left Erebor today. I wish I’d had the chance. Thank you for your company during my stay. You added a great deal of humor to my recovery with your visits and I am grateful.

Tilda told me earlier today that she misses seeing you here in Dale. I forget that while I was staying in Erebor, Dale was isolated from the world other than the dwarrow healers that aided my people here. As such, social people like my dear little sister were deprived of seeing some of their friends. Would you mind terribly coming to Dale someday soon? In fact, now that I think about it, I need to invite you and your entire family here for a family dinner. I’ll write Princess Dis and King Thorin and extend a formal invitation. I hope you’ll join as well. Next Saturday maybe? Please let me know if you can make it.

I wonder if you would help me with something. I need to know a few things about Fili but I’m afraid if I ask him, the surprise I have planned will be ruined. Do you remember when I made a loaf of cinnamon bread for your mother? I would hope that by your raptures over my baking that night that you do. It’s part of my culture to cook for my intended’s family so that they, mostly his mother, will know that I can keep a good house, feed him well. Would you tell me some of his favorite foods as well as some of each member of your family, all who would be included in a family dinner by dwarfish standards? I include Tauriel in this request, whether she would normally be considered or not. I would be so grateful if you did without telling Fili.

I hope to hear from you soon.

-S

 

She set the parchment aside to let the ink dry, feeling satisfied with the letter. She then found another sheet and started her next letter, keeping the one Fili sent her nearby as a reference.

 

To Fili, Son of Dis, Crown Prince Under the Mountain

My Dearest Darling Fili,

Thank you for managing the situation with Card. If further complications arise because of him or from Peder’s foolishness, please let me know. I will do what I can to aid in solving the problem. I just want him gone. 

I have written Kili his own letter. Hopefully, it will keep him occupied while you read this one. If not, well, Kili, stop reading this instant. I would prefer the remainder of this letter be kept between Fili and me and no one else.

We still need to decide on an endearment for you. Shall I make a list for us to review together the next time I see you or I could send it to you in a letter? I’m afraid khuzdul endearments have ruined me towards ones in Westron. They sound so much better in your language, especially after hearing you call me Ibrizinlêkhê. The depth and richness of your voice compliment your language wonderfully.

Your words of missing me and the emptiness of Erebor are indeed very sappy. They are also very sweet and I thank you for them. I’m afraid that I do not have your eloquence in writing. Is it something you trained to learn or have you always been able to write and say such things? Perhaps it is something I will need to learn. Do you think Balin or Ori would be willing to teach me?

I look forward to the day that we no longer must say things for the benefit of others, that we may speak freely with each other. I know that we will rarely be able to do so, considering how public our relationship is to always be, but I feel we will not always need to force them. I imagine it will be easier once I live in Erebor permanently.

It is strange. I miss the mountain too. Walking through Dale was a strange experience today. I know the streets but they felt commonplace and as they did the first day I walked through them after Smaug’s demise. I know them now, but there isn’t the sense of familiarity, of home, that there once was. When I first saw my father earlier today, the same feeling of bereavement came over me. I have always felt safe and at home with him. For the first time in my memory, I did not have that sense today. 

When did Erebor become so familiar to me? I don’t even know my way around the city but it feels more like home than Dale does. More than Dale ever did in some ways. Perhaps because in a way I am choosing Erebor in a way that I was unable to choose Dale. I miss the utter silence there. There is something soothing about it that I don’t think I’ll find here. I’m afraid I will find it hard to sleep with all the noise.

In my letter to Kili, I told him that I will be inviting you and your entire family to dinner next Saturday. I hope the day is one that will work for everyone. I’d much like to fulfill one of my people’s courting traditions.

In truth, I hope you will come before then. I miss you as well. When I learned of Card’s presence in Dale, I just wanted to return to Erebor, to you, and the safety I feel with you. Durin’s Day cannot come soon enough. I am so very tired of someone trying to pull us apart.

I should be scandalized by your admission of the ways you miss me but I cannot find it in me. You have ruined me, Master Dwarf. Do you know I went before my father’s council today with my hair only half bound? I left half of it down my back as I’ve seen many dwarrowdams wear theirs. It is most improper here for a young woman of a certain age to go without her hair properly secured and yet I deliberately left it down, as if to physically display my intention to marry you and join myself with Erebor and its dwarrow. I thought many of the old men would faint from the shock.

Perhaps I should not tell you how much I miss you. It hasn’t even been a day and yet, it is true. I have read your letter multiple times now, especially your last paragraph. I am unsure now of what I feel for you as well. I can still feel the warmth from your hands in my hair and on my waist, the scrape of your beard and mustache against and around my lips from our kisses. I will miss having you brush and braid my hair when I retire tonight. I miss how easily you make me laugh, how happy I feel when you are near. I miss seeing your quiet strength and your brazen loyalty. I wish I’d had the chance to watch you in your workshop more, to see you focus with such determination as you make beautifully delicate items. Watching you work is mesmerizing. The lines between love and friendship are thoroughly blurred for me. 

I will return to you as soon as I can. If not before then, I hope to see you next Saturday.

-S

 

Sigrid waved the parchment back and forth a bit to help the ink dry before scattering some drying sand across the surface. She checked Kili’s letter and found it ready to be sealed. She prepared it and the one to Fili for transport.

“Thank you for waiting, Rork. Can I get you anything more before you return to Erebor?”

The bird gave a squawk. “Some water will do nicely,” she said and hopped onto Sigrid’s shoulder. They went back into the kitchen where Sigrid fetched Rork the requested water before carefully securing the letters to her leg.

“Is that all right?” Sigrid asked. “Not too tight?”

“No, it’s fine,” Rork said. “Do you have any verbal messages for anyone?”

Sigrid smiled. “Would you tell Fili that I miss him? It says it in the letter to him but I’d like him to know it as soon as possible.”

Rork flapped her wings. “Really, you two hatchlings should just mate and be done with it,” she huffed before taking off out the window.

Sigrid watched her go before she retreated to her room to reread the letter from Fili again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a bit greedy asking this, but please, leave kudos, leave comments, leave prompts (I've received a few that I'm going to work on soon, I promise). I promise to work hard on my original work for NaNoWriMo and finish it early so I can get back to work on the Bagginshield project that is currently awaiting my attention. If you are participating in NaNoWriMo, look me up. I'm Agent_Snark over there too. If you're not participating, you may consider doing so. You can even write fanfics for your project. It's not too late to get involved.
> 
> Happy reading!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili's a pest.
> 
> Fili's annoyed.
> 
> Bard is nostalgic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot find the words to express my gratitude to all of my readers. I have had so many kudos and comments on the last chapter. I am absolutely astounded by the sheer amount. I must be doing something right. Thank you all so very, very much.
> 
> On that note, and due to popular demand for certain scenes, I will probably be adding one more chapter than the original count. This one actually has extra material I wasn't going to add. I hope I don't disappoint.
> 
> I will be out of town next week for a week and a half. I will have my laptop with me but I cannot guarantee that I will update as regularly as I have been. Please forgive any delay. I don't see my family often as I live a good 1300 miles or so away from them and I will be spending the time with them.
> 
> On with the latest chapter!

Chapter 21

Fili set Sigrid’s letter down on his workbench next to the pile of diamonds and the smallest mithril wire he could find. “You said she missed me,” he said to Rork. “I think that was an understatement.”

The bird cocked its head to the side. “That was the message she bade me give you.”

Fili tapped the parchment, taking a deep breath. “What should I do?” he wondered aloud. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to drop everything and head to Dale right now. To saddle Onyx himself and ride as if wargs chased him until he reached Sigrid’s house so he could… So he could… What exactly?

“Just mate with the woman and be done with it,” Rork croaked.

He rubbed a hand down his face. “By Mahal, I wish it were that simple but it’s not.” Part of him, an increasingly bigger and eager part of him, looked forward to their wedding with utter glee. The other part of him vehemently loathed it, dreading what was expected of them that night and the awkwardness that it would entail. For all that he might love Sigrid, he wasn’t confident enough in his feelings to be able to admit it out loud. Writing to her about it was one thing. Saying it was another Balrog entirely.

“What’s not that simple?” The door slammed.

Fili whipped Sigrid’s letter off his workbench and shoved it into a drawer, locking it quickly before his brother could get more than a glimpse of it.

“Is that from Sigrid? I bet it is. What does it say? Something good I’ll bet considering she wrote me my own letter instead of just telling me what she wanted in yours.” Kili grinned at him and came to lean on the bench, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “And you know, your panic to keep it out of my sight.”

“It’s not your concern Kee,” Fili grumbled and picked up the mithril wire and pliers, intent to work on Sigrid’s circlet. He went over to the forge to heat the mithril enough to be able to mold it and cursed when he realized it wasn’t near hot enough, not for working with the precious metal.

“I’ll bet considering you’re hiding it from me,” the younger prince said, slinging an arm around Fili. “What’d she write?”

“She said for you to bugger off.”

Kili stumbled back, a hand going dramatically to his chest. “I’m wounded, Fee. Really I am. To think you don’t trust me with your lady love’s words.”

Fili rolled his eyes, adding the special fuel to his forge to create the heat he needed. Kili stripped off his tunic and threw it on the couch across the room after seeing what his older brother was doing.

“I think you’ve taken too many wounds to the head,” Fili sniped. Kili just shrugged at the comment. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Nothing much. Just reminding you that you need to get some sleep tonight. You have to show Card around tomorrow, starting early in the morning.”

Irritation flared inside Fili, almost as strong as it had been before Rork brought him Sigrid’s letter. The Southron had shown up in Erebor, claiming to have an interest in opening trade between the mountain and the nations far to the south. “I’ll be ready,” he said. “I just need to make the basic shape for this first at the very least. I’m so behind on the work.”

Kili nodded and watched Fili work for a while. When Fili reached to draw the now softened length of mithril out of the forge, he said, “Did she tell you she loves you?”

Fili jerked, missing the wire and brushing his bare arm against the metal, hissing at the new burn to his skin. “What?” he asked, being more careful this time. Coming to his bench, he picked up a second set of pliers and started twisting and rounding the metal, molding it around the basic stone bust he used when shaping circlets and tiaras and the like. He worked quickly while the metal was still malleable.

“At least, I assume she does. She hasn’t said anything to me but she did write us separate letters this time. I can only assume it’s because she has secret things to tell you.”

Fili didn’t respond for a while, concentrating on creating the right shape for the circlet. When it was how he wanted it and the metal too cool and hard to work anymore, he set his tools aside and sat on the stool.

“She’s not sure how she feels,” he confessed quietly. “Neither am I for that matter.” His hands flexed as he thought of how she’d written about missing him. He was terrified that this was all lust, that once it burned out, they would not have any affection for each other. That they would grow to resent each other and the trap their marriage would become.

Kili stepped around the bench and wrapped his arm around Fili’s bare shoulders, drawing his older, yet shorter brother, into a hug and pressed their foreheads together. “If I were to guess,” he said carefully, “I’d say she does or is at least on her way to loving you. I doubt your marriage will be without proper affection, given the right amount of time.”

“Thank you, Kee,” he said. “Mahal willing you’re right.”

Kili stepped back. “Of course I’m right. Now go to bed. I can’t wait to watch you suffer shepherding the Southron around the city tomorrow.”

Huffing a laugh, Fili banked the fires in his forge for the night, knowing he’d be back at the first opportunity to continue work on the jewelry for the wedding, specifically Sigrid’s circlet. While not intricate, he wanted to get it just right. He hoped she would appreciate the effort he put into making it as comfortable as possible for her, as he would do his best to make the rest of their lives together comfortable.

~*~*~

Fili stood in his place at Thorin’s side the next morning, waiting for Card to show his face in the throne room. He really just wanted to either go back to bed, get back to work in his workshop, or saddle Onyx and head to Dale to see Sigrid. The Southron’s claims for opening trade were ridiculous after all. This was all just a waste of his valuable time.

Finally, the human strolled in, dressed in what was possibly some of his kingdom’s best finery, all deep reds, bright yellows, and dense black in flowing loose clothing and a strange wrapped hat he’d never seen before.

Balin stepped forward to perform formal introductions for the morning. Fili kept his expression neutral, holding the mask he’d developed over decades while wanting nothing more than to run this posturing man out of the mountain and as far away from Sigrid as he could. Instead, he was stuck here in the guise of establishing diplomatic relations.

Once Balin and Bilbo had finished the boring nonsense words, Fili stepped forward to offer his services as a guide around the mountain for the day until the meeting that would be late that afternoon when trade would be discussed. Card accepted, of course, and they set off towards the main halls of Erebor.

It didn’t take long for Card to start in on him. “Judging by your beard, you are quite young for a dwarf, aren’t you?” he asked all innocent.

Fili resisted the urge to tip his head to the side and fix the man with a deadpan look as he would have if he weren’t trying to play nice for Thorin’s sake. “I am of age for my people,” he said. “I keep my beard short in respect as a sign of grief for those lost during the Battle for Erebor when the orcs attacked shortly after Smaug’s demise.”

“Ah yes, the dragon. The one you woke and sent to destroy Esgaroth.”

“Smaug destroyed the city on his own,” Fili said. “We have since done all we can and continue to aid the citizens that survived and made peace with them.”

Card hummed noncommittally but did not comment further on the city that was still being rebuilt, this time with better materials that would withstand the environment better than the rotting wood that had made up the structures.

The day continued in such a manner as they wandered. The man made observations specifically designed to try to irritate or provoke Fili, from comparing his height to those of the humans in Erebor’s market, to the slow progress of repairs in some areas of the mountain, and finally, the general cultural differences Card perceived.

It wasn’t until shortly after lunch that Card found what it was he sought. They were near the kitchens when a dwarf slapped Nori across the face in the middle of the hallway. “Nori, son of Kori, I Challenge you for Lira’s hand.”

Fili watched as Nori slipped his knives back up his sleeves from where he’d been palming them at the first sign of trouble. The thief turned spymaster cocked an eyebrow at the dwarf. “You sure you want to do that?” he drawled lazily.

“Aye, I’m sure.”

Nori gave a short, quiet laugh. “Then I will enjoy wiping you into the floor. I’ll see you in the south training yards in ten minutes.” He walked off with a swagger to his steps.

“What is happening here?” Card asked, having stopped to watch, his interest obvious. With no other choice, Fili answered truthfully of the situation. “So, if anyone wishes to marry one intended for another, they issue such a Challenge?”

“Yes,” Fili said and stared at Card, waiting for the inevitable.

It came as Card swung quickly, slapping him smartly. He didn’t even flinch under the hit, his joyous fury coursing through him in angry, delighted waves.

“I Challenge you, Prince Fili, for the hand of the Princess Sigrid of Dale,” Card said.

Fili grinned, showing far more teeth than was probably strictly necessary. “I accept your Challenge,” he said, “and to show there are no hard feelings, you may dictate the terms of the match.” It was a risky move, he knew, but he could also not be faulted if relations with the Southrons fell apart because of the incident.

“Then we shall meet in one week’s time, before the mountain’s gates when the sun is at its highest,” Card said.

“I accept,” Fili said. “Now, I’m afraid I must leave you in the hands of another. Tradition dictates we no longer have contact with each other until the start of the Challenge. I shall lead you back to the throne room where Balin will assign you a new guide.” He turned on his heal, satisfaction burning brightly inside him. Not only could he be rid of Card in a week, but now he could spend the rest of the day working on more important things, like Sigrid’s jewelry. Perhaps he'd take a short break though, and go watch Nori wipe his Challenger into the ground while barely lifting a finger first. It would undoubtedly be an amusing match.

~*~*~

“Sigrid is going to kill you,” Kili said gleefully.

Fili snorted and winced as pain flared across his nose, eye, and cheekbone. “I wonder if she won’t just laugh herself sick.” The smile that tugged at his lips hurt as well.

“Now why would she want to kill your brother for winning a Challenge for her and getting a black eye and split lip in the process?” Bilbo asked. “Seems like she should be flattered.”

Thorin draped an arm across the hobbit’s shoulders. “I’d imagine she’d be angry at him for depriving her of the opportunity to beat the man herself,” he said.

The fight with Card the day before hadn’t lasted long. It took a few minutes for Fili to get used to the fighting style the Southron used, resulting in a boot to the left side of his face and thus the bruising and split lip. Dripping blood from his lip and with one eye swelling shut, Fili retaliated swiftly, sending Card stumbling back but keeping his sword up and ultimately failing to defend himself when the pommel of Fili’s sword struck him on the side of the head, knocking the Man senseless. He’d left Erebor that morning, shamed and furious.

Now, the entire Durin line and the Company walked up the streets of Dale, laughing at Thorin’s remark, none louder than Fili. When Sigrid had invited Fili and his family to dinner, it was quickly decided that the entire Company and their families would come too. Family didn’t end in blood after all. Looking around at them all, he wondered if he should have suggested they not invite everyone. He was afraid he’d made life very difficult for his intended.

It was too late now though. They all turned to the gate and let themselves in, heading for the door. A maid answered it, eyes wide as twenty-two dwarrow, dwarflings, an elf, and a single hobbit entered at her invitation.

Tilda bounded into the room and immediately found Kili, talking a mile a minute at the younger prince and Tauriel. Bard entered the room soon after, admonishing her gently and welcoming the large party to his home. 

“I believe Sigrid will be here in a moment,” he said as he led the way to the dining room. Fili stayed at the back of the group near Nori and Lira. The former gave him a knowing, wicked smirk which Fili ignored. When they passed the hallway that led to the private family rooms, he ducked down it, a finger to his lips when Lira caught his eye. She smiled and winked as he moved down the hall. He entered her room after receiving permission.

“Did you leave a piece of him for me?” Sigrid asked when he closed her door quietly behind him. She turned in her seat at her vanity, having seen his appearance in the mirror, and grinned widely at him.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “He left this morning once he could handle being on his horse without losing his breakfast.” He stepped forward and wrapped her up in his arms.

“Well that’s hardly fair,” she said and wrapped her arms around him. “I wanted a go at him too.”

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured and kissed her deeply, ignoring the pain searing through his bruised face. Her hands clutched at his shoulders as she returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm from her seat. She sighed and he took advantage of her slightly open mouth, licking his way past her lips and reveling in the feeling of her tongue brushing against his. He surged into her mouth again and again until some of the desperation faded from his blood. He retreated, pulling her tightly against his chest as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Mahal let this be love,” he prayed against her skin. She hummed in response.

“If it is the timing couldn’t be more perfect,” she said. He bent and kissed her again, gentler, sweeter, slower before releasing her.

He chuckled. “If it is, Kili is going to be impossible to live with. Did you know he told me I must love you months ago? Before you fell ill?”

She grinned at him as he took hold of her hands carefully and drew her to her feet. She reached back and grabbed one final hairpin to finish securing the last curl of her long hair at her nape. “For someone who has a hard time focusing on a single task he is very insightful.”

“He just sees the little things, not the bigger picture is all. Makes it easier to piece a puzzle together faster.”

Fili sighed and rolled his eyes as Sigrid jumped and glared toward her doorway. “Master Nori, do you ever knock?”

He stepped into the room and shut the door. “You might as well know now. I’ve been given leave to tell you anyway at my own discretion. I’m Erebor’s spymaster. It’s my job to be places I’m not supposed to be. I make a point of it. Now you two better leave separately. I was sent to find the young prince. We can tell everyone he was using the privy to save your reputation, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Nori,” Fili drawled as he took the final hairpin from Sigrid and slid it into place in her hair. He kissed the corner of her mouth and she reluctantly left the room, a sweet smile on her lips.

“So you don’t love the lass,” Nori said, his voice bland but obvious curiosity in his eyes.

“I didn’t at first,” Fili said, “I don’t know if I do now but I’m having difficulty identifying what I feel.”

A knife appeared in Nori’s hand and he flipped it absently. “I find it odd how willing you were to enter a courtship not based on love and yet you absolutely cannot stand the thought that His Majestic Broodingness may have married The Burglar for anything less than love.”

“Leave it alone Nori,” Fili growled. He had never outright said anything to anyone about Thorin’s marriage to Bilbo but he had never acknowledged it more than was required. Of course, Nori would have noticed it though.

“He’s his One, you know.” Nori flipped the knife and caught it before sending it into the air again. Fili froze. Nori nodded as if the prince had spoken. “Aye, he is. Not many know. Probably just them, Dwalin, Balin, and me. Don’t even think your ma knows, but it’s true.”

“Thorin never said-”

“And when has King Grump ever spoken about his feelings without it being dragged out of him?” Nori smirked, giving his knife a complicated twist that sent it tumbling over his shoulder and into the hand behind his back. “That doesn’t matter right now though. What does, is that you’ve been willingly and at times enthusiastically playing the part of a besotted suitor with someone you supposedly don’t love when the very idea of a political marriage is the worst thing you can think of. Take some time. Think on your reasons but not right now. Dinner’s ready and I’m starving.”

Fili followed Nori out of the room, barely realizing he did so. After Nori made their excuses when they reached the dining room, they took their seats. Sigrid gave him a questioning look even as she touched his hand beneath the table. He smiled at her, shaking his head. He’d think on it later as Nori suggested.

“You’ve been beaten Bilbo,” Kili crowed. “This is a better spread than when we met you in the Shire.”

The hobbit glared at the younger prince. “Yes, well, I wasn’t expecting thirteen dwarrow to show up on my doorstep demanding dinner, now did I? With warning, I would have given you all a proper supper.”

Thorin leaned over and murmured something to Bilbo and the hobbit grinned up at the tall dwarf next to him and Fili wondered how he could have missed it. Of course, they loved each other. He could see that now. But then, he’d spent almost three entire years trying to ignore any interactions between the two, believing their marriage to be a lie. He had never watched them. Never acknowledged the way Thorin’s entire countenance changed when he focused on Bilbo. Never acknowledged the way Bilbo’s grin lit up his face when Thorin brushed a soft kiss along his cheek. Had very pointedly never watched any kind of physical interaction between the two, sometimes choosing to completely turn away or childishly close his eyes rather than witness it.

Now, as they all dug into the admittedly delicious dinner Sigrid had made –and wasn’t it a wonder that she’d made it all herself- Fili took the time to study them and the way they interacted for just a few moments. He’d been blind.

“Are you all right?” Sigrid whispered to him, grey-green eyes concerned.

“Yes,” he said and tore his eyes away from his uncles. “Just thinking about something Nori said.”

The dinner continued with various raptures being sent her way. When the table was cleared, Sigrid ducked into the kitchen and, with a little bit of help from the household staff, she returned with numerous desserts. The dwarrow cheered and dug in with a will. She retook her seat next to Fili and cut him a slice of a cake.

“Try this,” she urged, handing him the plate.

He took a bite and moaned in delight. “Whatever this is, it’s better than that amazing cinnamon bread.” He demolished the rest of the slice slowly, savoring the sweet honey and cinnamon flavor coupled with the creamy layers. He looked at Balin. “I need an amendment made to the marriage contract. Sigrid has to make this at least once a week.”

“That’s not happing. It takes three days to make!” she said with an incredulous laugh.

“What’s it called anyway?” Bilbo asked all but licking the crumbs off his own plate from his serving of the golden cake.

“Medovik,” Sigrid said. “It’s a honey cake my mother used to make.” Here she looked at her father. He smiled sadly at her, nostalgia bright in his damp eyes.

“No one has made it since before she died,” Bard said. “It seems fitting that something as joyous as a wedding would bring it back into our home.”

Sigrid looked down at her lap, obviously pleased at her father’s approval.

“Mum used to make this?” Tilda asked in a small voice. Bard wrapped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her head.

“It tastes just the same,” he assured his youngest daughter. Fili made a point of not noticing the choked sound of the man’s voice or the tears openly streaming down the young girl’s face as she took another small bite, a look of concentration in her eyes, as if she were trying to remember the cake from when she was a toddler.

“Fit to celebrate a wedding indeed,” Dis said to shift the sense of solemnity in the air. “As such, I believe I am expected to pass judgment on the meal, am I not?”

Bard nodded. “If you find something wrong with Sigrid’s ability to keep a good home for your son, it would be grounds to call off the engagement.”

Fili took Sigrid’s hand under the table, surprised slightly at the strength in which she gripped his fingers. He recognized the nervous set to her jaw as she watched his mother.

“You made all this yourself?” Dis asked.

Sigrid sat up straighter. “I made it willingly by my own hand and give it freely in hopes that you will find my abilities adequate and worthy to the future care of your son as we prepare to start a life together,” she said and Fili wondered if she’d consciously worded her response so closely to those spoken when a courting gift was given by a dwarf or if her people had similar rituals.

Dis looked at her son. “Fili, you are the one who shall marry this woman. How do you judge her worthiness and adequacy?”

He smirked across the table at his mother. “I judge her favorably, Amad. I find no fault in her abilities and await our marriage with poor patience.”

Dis inclined her head. “There you have it, Your Highness,” she said to Sigrid. “You seem more than capable of feeding my son. You have my approval.”

Tilda cheered and the rest of the table joined in and the evening continued on a much lighter note. Fili pulled Sigrid into a kiss in front of everyone present, ignoring the good-natured jeering from the Company and the grumbles from Bard and Bain and the giggles from Tilda.

~*~*~

After dinner ended, Fili and Sigrid stepped outside into the garden. The fading sun cast golden tones across the city, bringing the shine back to the stone that made up the majority of the buildings around them. A tree stood in the yard, one of the few that had survived Smaug’s desolation but only barely. Bain had built a bench that now resided beneath the branches. Fili brushed away some fallen red and gold leaves before he and Sigrid sat. He kept hold of her hands, ever conscious that Bard could see them by merely looking out the window.

“Two weeks,” he said, rubbing a thumb across the knuckles of her hands. “Are you ready?”

She drew a shuddering breath and exhaled quickly. “I’m not sure. We started this with the intention of marrying even though we were only friends. As much as I’d like to honestly be able to say that I love you, I still just don’t know,” she admitted and the tightness around her eyes, the way her brow furrowed, and the way her lips pulled outward but not up in a parody of a smile seemed to convey fear, sorrow, and apology all in the same moment.

Fili squeezed her fingers gently. “There is passion between us,” he said and smirked at the color that rose in her cheeks. “Mahal knows restraint around you, even with only the illusion of privacy-” his eyes glanced toward the house where he could just make out Bard’s looming presence “-is becoming more and more difficult, but there is still not what I would call love, as much as I would like it to be. At least, I don’t think there is.” Nori’s advice to think on his ease in proposing the idea gnawed at the back of his mind as if he were missing something important. He shoved the feeling away, focusing again on Sigrid.

“It’s not too late,” Sigrid said. “You can still walk away, try to find a nice dwarrowdam that sweeps you off your feet.”

He chuckled softly. “You could too, you know.”

She snorted. “Not if I want to keep my reputation intact.” At his perplexed look, she said, “Human women can’t break an engagement without being seen as lesser, damaged goods, for surely it wouldn’t be the man’s fault, only her own selfishness, foolishness, or lack of propriety that could bring her to do so. If a man ends an engagement, well, it just wasn’t a good match.”

“Humans have such strange ideas,” he said. “If you ask it, I will call it off though, to save your reputation.”

Sigrid smiled, her head bowing as she stared at their joined hands. “No, I don’t think I want to call it off,” she said after a few moments of thought. “I think there is still hope for us to find love with each other. It just may take a while.”

Fili nodded. “Then I have something for you, although from what I understand, I’m doing this quite late by your people’s traditions.” His hand went to his pocket and he fiddled with a little box there as he spoke. “Dwarrow never declare themselves engaged, only showing it through our braids. I didn’t realize that humans differed. I fear I neglected to even ask you to marry me that night.” 

“You sound as if you are about to propose,” Sigrid said with a grin.

He slid off the bench, moving until he knelt on one knee in front of her. “I suppose I am. Sigrid, Ibrizinlêkhê, will you marry me?” He held up the box that Bard had given him months ago, displaying the simple gold band he had taken the time to repair and polish.

She laughed. “Of course I will, Dearest Fili,” she said and reached to tug him back onto the bench next to her. He stood instead, pulled the ring from the box, and slipped it onto her finger. He covered her hand with both of his and bent to kiss her chastely before taking his spot by her side. Sigrid examined the ring as he took his seat, her brow furrowing as if trying to puzzle it out, why a prince with all the wealth of Erebor at his disposal would give her something so simple when, even among her own people, precious gems were perfectly acceptable and not ostentatious. 

“Your father gave that to me. He said you would appreciate having it.”

Sigrid covered her mouth and leaned forward when realization hit her, still staring at the ring on her now trembling hand. “Mum’s,” she whispered and he almost missed it, muffled as the breathy word was by her fingers. When tears started slipping down her cheeks, he gathered her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Ibrizinlêkhê,” he murmured as he held her while silent tears dripped down her face.

When she’d gained some control again, she sat back upright and wiped her eyes and nose on a handkerchief. “I’m sorry. There’s just so little of her left,” she said. “Just this and a pair of earrings that I have, I think, and I plan to give the earrings to Tilda when she turns sixteen. She’s growing to be the spitting image of our mother. It seems only right. Now I’ll still have something of hers.”

“You must take after your amad as well,” he said. “Tilda looks so similar to you.”

“So everyone tells me,” she said and wiped away a few more tears. “I don’t see it.”

Fili cupped her face in his hands, drawing her forehead to his. “No matter what happens between us, know that I think you beautiful in your own right.”

“Even without a beard?”

“Even without a beard,” he assured her and drew her into a sweet kiss, uncaring if Bard looked on in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, you are all AMAZING! I feel so loved.
> 
> Please comment. Please leave kudos. Please leave prompts.
> 
> I will do my best to keep updating regularly next week. I will be here for Friday this week and will make sure chapter 22 goes up before I leave.
> 
> Happy reading!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin gets irritated.
> 
> Sigrid goes on the warpath.
> 
> Fili makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful kudos and comments! It's midnight somewhere so this is going up now!
> 
> I literally wrote this entire chapter today because I had a lot of requests for what happens in it. I hope I did it justice!

Chapter 22

When Fili and Sigrid returned to the house after he proposed, Bard looked directly at Sigrid’s left hand without any hesitation. He had obviously been watching them. “It’s official now,” he said and turned to Dis. “It’s about time we discussed Sigrid’s dowry. Let’s sit down and we can go over the details.” He nodded at the dining table, now cleared of all the dishes by an enthusiastic group of dwarrow that were quite thrilled with the opportunity to once again sing and perform a favorite song from a night in a certain hobbit’s smial.

“Dowry?” Dis asked.

“Of course,” Bard said with raised eyebrows as he took a seat and motioned for Sigrid to come to sit with him. She did, a sudden sense of dread creeping up her spine.

“The wedding is in two weeks,” Thorin groused. “How could it not have been official by now?”

“Fili never proposed,” Bard said. “For us, an engagement isn’t official until a proposal.”

“And Sigrid couldn’t propose?” Thorin asked.

“No,” Bard said and turned his attention to Dis. “The political aspect of their marriage was detailed during the wedding and marriage contracts. I don’t think we need to go over it again.”

Dis nodded, still looking a bit confused by the entire situation. 

“As for the personal portion of the dowry, after consulting with others, I have settled on fifteen thousand gold coins for her.”

Dis’ eyebrows drew together but it was Thorin who spoke. “I thought we’d already agreed she would have access to Fili’s portion of the treasure. Compared to that, fifteen thousand gold is a pittance.”

Bard straightened in his seat, his usual glower deepening into an outright scowl of irritation as his hands curled into fists. “For your people, it may be, but for us, fifteen thousand is a large sum. We don’t have the access you do to untold riches.”

“Which your daughter will have access to,” Thorin growled. 

“That’s not the point,” Bard said. “I am honor bound to settle on a dowry for her. Is the amount displeasing to you? Should it be larger?”

Thorin climbed to his feet, one hand going to his hip where orcrist usually resided. His lips drew back in a snarl. “Do you have such a low opinion of us? To think we would be so greedy as to go back on our word?”

Sigrid glanced between the two and then at Dis who just looked confused and, admittedly, a bit angry. She turned to look at Fili desperately. He watched his uncle and Bard, seemingly trying to puzzle out how the evening had suddenly gone downhill. When he looked at Sigrid, she pointed at herself and mouthed the word “human” before pointing to him and mouthing “dwarf.” He caught on fairly quickly and interrupted Thorin’s rant.

“Is this a human thing?” he asked.

Thorin fell silent and looked sharply at his heir. “What?”

“This entire mess. This dowry. Is it a human thing? I’ve never heard of it before.”

Whatever Bard had been about to say died in his throat. Once he recovered, he asked, “Your people don’t have dowries for your women?”

“That depends,” Dis said. “What is a dowry?”

“It’s the price the bride and her family pay to her groom upon their wedding.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Fili said, holding his hands up in front of him, palms out before pointing at Bard. “You want to _pay_ me to marry Sigrid?” Bard nodded and Fili gave a short, huffed laugh. “That’s ridiculous. Why would you pay me to marry her when I _want_ to marry her?”

Bard scowled. “It’s to help the groom with financing and running the household when they are first wed.”

“I have a fourteenth of the treasure in Erebor and am Crown Prince,” Fili reminded him. “I don’t need the help establishing our home.”

“I know,” Bard grumbled.

“It’s a status thing,” Sigrid supplied. “It makes the royal family seem well off if the price is a high one.”

“And what of your poor?” Thorin asked. “Are they then to remain unwed?”

Bard shook his head. “It happens, but most often those that can’t afford a dowry find something else to bring to a marriage, a skill such as sewing.”

“It’s one of the reasons my mum was teaching me embroidery,” Sigrid said. “I could always bring in extra funds with my skills.”

“Not that she needed to,” Bard said. “Even before I smuggled you lot into Laketown, I had a reasonably respectable amount set aside for Sigrid and her sister. They would have been fine. Add in how beautiful Sigrid is-”

“Da, you’re biased.”

“No, he’s not, Ibrizinlêkhê.”

“You’re biased too. You’re marrying me.”

“Of course he is. My lovely Tauriel is the most beautiful after all.”

Dis reached out and smacked the back of Kili’s head gently. “Enough. Bard was talking and you’re being rude.”

“Sorry.”

Bard cleared his throat. “Add in how beautiful Sigrid is,” he repeated and glared now just to make sure no one else interrupted, “and she would have made a rather advantageous marriage for herself, I’m sure. Tilda too.”

“If I managed to keep my mouth shut long enough around whoever came to call,” Sigrid muttered.

“I quite like your mouth,” Fili said with a playful wink and waggle of the eyebrows. The grin he directed at her was all mischief and Sigrid blushed. He yelped when his mother smacked the back of his head too. “What was that for?”

“Show some respect,” the dwarrowdam ordered. “Back on topic, it’s tradition for your people to pay for their daughters to be married.”

“Yes.”

“That just seems backward.”

“Women aren’t as rare as dwarrowdams,” Sigrid reminded Dis.

“Obviously.” She thought for a moment. “Keep the dowry,” she finally decided. “The political ties and Sigrid’s own abilities as an embroiderer and warrior are dowry enough for her. If you must do something with the money, use it to help those citizens that need it.”

Bard’s face relaxed but kept his usual glower. “I’ll put the fund together in Fili’s name so it seems as if it was his wish and use of Sigrid’s dowry. Even my council won’t be able to protest at that.”

“Smart man,” Dis said.

Sigrid climbed quickly to her feet. “Now that that’s settled we should-” She was cut off by the sound of someone knocking on the door. She scowled and looked out the dark window. “Who could that be?” she wondered.

Bain, who was in the front sitting room with Bifur and Bofur learning some whittling tricks, answered the door before Bard or Sigrid could get up from the table. He soon came into the dining room struggling to keep from laughing. “Doors for you Sig,” he said.

Perplexed, she stood and headed toward the door, eyeing her brother suspiciously. When she caught sight of the doorway, she groaned. “Not another one!”

Bain started laughing outright in the kitchen, even as Fili came to see what had upset her.

Standing on their doorstep was a man, probably around ten years Sigrid’s senior, dressed in finery not required for a social visit. She had no clue who he was but had a pretty good idea why he was there considering Bain’s reaction.

Sigrid marched up to the man who smiled at her winningly and she gagged at the smell of some truly atrocious pipeweed. She much preferred the smell of whatever it was Fili occasionally smoked, not that she liked the habit much at all. She’d noticed he’d stopped smelling of it quite so often and never smoked around her anymore.

“Good evening,” the man said in heavily accented Westron. “You must be the lovely Princess of Dale.”

She smiled politely. “I am. Let me guess, you received a letter indicating I was open to a courtship.”

“Why, yes, I did. I am here to do test my luck.”

“I’m terribly sorry. You’re too late. Have a nice evening.” She went to close the door and resisted the urge to growl when he stopped it with a broad hand.

“Too late? How can that be? I received the letter just a month ago.” He pulled a sheet of parchment from his coat and handed it to her.

“A month?” Sigrid yelped and stared at the letter. She recognized the handwriting instantly. “Oh, I’m going to _kill_ Peder! Yes, you’re too late. The letter should have never been sent. I have been paid court since early spring. I’m getting married in two weeks.”

“To whom, may I ask?”

“Me.” Fili wrapped an arm around Sigrid’s waist, smiling a bit too widely at the man. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, whoever you are, but she really is engaged.”

“A dwarf? You jest.”

“That’s _it_!” Sigrid snapped. “Yes, I’m marrying a dwarf. Yes, I’m happy with him. Now, will you leave?” She took a deep breath and added a bit more calmly. “Please.”

The man blinked in surprise at her vehemence. Looked at Fili and gave a wide smile. “Good luck, Master Dwarf,” he said with a chuckle and left, muttering something about missing a dragon by the skin of his teeth.

“Tilda!” Sigrid shouted once the door was closed. “Come with me. I need some help.” She headed to her room. Her sister grinned widely.

“Are we going to dress you up like a dwarf again so you can go scare the trousers off Peder?”

Sigrid quite literally snarled. “I’m going to do more than scare him this time.”

“This sounds interesting. May I help?”

Sigrid paused in her determined march towards her room to glance over at where Nori and Lira leaned against a wall. The dwarrowdam disentangled herself from her One’s arms, the mischievous smirk dancing across her lips all too similar to the spymaster’s.

“Absolutely,” Sigrid said. “Anyone else?” she asked, glancing around the sitting room where the rest of the company and their families had gathered at the commotion. Bard was nowhere in sight, probably gone off to change to chew out the member of his council, just as his daughter intended to.

Dis and Tauriel volunteered quickly and the five females went to Sigrid’s room.

“What are we trying to accomplish?” Dis asked once they were sequestered away. They all ignored the sounds of mutterings from outside the door. Of course, a few of the males had followed them, intent on listening in on the proceedings. Sigrid couldn’t help but briefly wonder if one of them was Fili.

“I would like to turn him into a drooling puddle of terror before I lop his head off,” Sigrid said.

“I don’t think Da will let you kill him,” Tilda said as she started pulling pins from her sister’s hair. 

“More’s the pity,” Dis muttered under her breath.

“Agreed,” Sigrid and Lira chorused and then cast a quick smile at each other.

“We should start with your clothing,” Tauriel suggested and went to the wardrobe. She opened the wooden doors and frowned at the contents. “Don’t you own any trousers?”

“Just the one pair and they’re – ow! Til! Be careful! – rather dirty from all the horseback riding I had to do this last week."

“I’m having trousers made for you,” Dis said, pitching her voice loudly towards the door. “Make sure Dori gets on that when we return to the mountain.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Nori’s voice drifted through the wood unashamedly, followed by him yelping and a lot of people shushing him. “What? They obviously know we’re here. Why try to be sneaky about it?”

“It’s not the point,” Kili hissed and the group on the other side of the door dissolved briefly into squabbling over their volume before what sounded like Bilbo shushing them firmly.

Tauriel sighed as she scanned through the dresses. Lira joined the elf and stopped her when she went to push a deep red gown aside. “This one,” the dancer proclaimed, pulling it down. “The coloring will make her look more severe and they’re associated with Dale’s ruling house. He needs to be reminded of his place.”

Tauriel nodded as Lira dug through the shoes and boots at the bottom of the cupboard. She found a pair of dark brown, boots with a respectably high heal.

“Hair’s down,” Tilda said and Tauriel and Lira brought the clothing forward.

Stepping behind the screen with her younger sister, Sigrid pulled off the dress she’d worn for the evening and let her sister help her into the red gown, pinning everything into place and doing up any laces that needed it. When she came out from behind the screen, Lira handed her the boots and she sat down to pull them on. Once she was settled again, Dis came over to her, Sigrid’s old wooden brush in her hand.

“We put a lot of emphasis on our hair,” the dwarrowdam murmured to her.

“I’m aware,” she said. “If you don’t want to break your traditions, I’m sure you can walk Til through what you have in mind, or Tauriel.”

“If you don’t object, I’d like to do it,” Dis said.

Sigrid smiled at her in the mirror. “I’d be honored if you would do my hair,” she admitted. “We should leave it down though. I think it would do well to remind Peder that I am marrying a dwarf, not some human that thinks a woman with her hair unbound is no better than she ought to be.”

Dis smirked and started running Sigrid’s old brush through her hair, tutting at the state of the old wood. “You need a new brush,” she groused.

“I’ve been telling her that since we moved in here,” Tilda said watching as Dis worked.

Sigrid glared at her sister for just a moment. “And I keep telling you I don’t need one. This one works just fine.”

“It may work,” Dis said, a note of disapproval in her voice, “but it is by far not fit for one of your station.”

Sigrid made a face as Dis started twisting a style of braid into her hair she’d never seen before. It looked like two strands twisted around each other but with a lock of hair going in between them every time they crossed. The dam braided off the excess hair and pinned it along the top of Sigrid’s head with some of her hairpins, picking out the sun-shaped ones.

“I doubt Peder knows Fili’s nickname for me,” Sigrid said when Dis pulled the first pin from the pile where Tilda had left them when she’d first pulled them from Sigrid’s hair.

“He probably does not,” Dis agreed, “but he should recognize dwarrow work and the pins you wear most often.” She worked the last few pins into her hair carefully before stepping aside. Lira almost pounced on Sigrid, having found the rarely used collection of cosmetics in one of the drawers of her vanity.

“Do I have to?” Sigrid groaned, eyeing the brushes and various torture devices.

“I’ll keep it light, except your lips. They should make a statement,” Lira promised and went to work, brushing the barest hint of color across Sigrid’s cheeks and eyelids and keeping the line around her eyes thin and light. She darkened the young woman’s lashes and then went to work on her lips, painting them a deep red to match the dress and emphasizing how full they were masterfully.

“Done,” the dam said after a time and stepped back. Sigrid turned to look at herself in the mirror.

“One last thing,” Dis said and reached up into her own hair. She pulled the small circlet off her own head and placed it on Sigrid’s. It was a slightly loose fit but didn’t slip over her eyes. “You are royalty and marrying my son, the heir to the greatest dwarf kingdom. You shall wear our jewels while you face this dishonorable man.” She added one of her own necklaces and three rings to Sigrid’s appearance, including one of a deep red ruby she said had belonged to her grandmother that Thorin had found in the treasury after Smaug was vanquished. Sigrid slid it onto the middle finger of her left hand, right next to the gold band that had once belonged to her mother.

“I do believe you’re almost ready,” Tauriel said and handed Sigrid her sword. She already wore her throwing knives. Once the blade was strapped to her hip, Tauriel nodded. “That should do it. I do believe your very appearance will frighten the man.”

“Good,” Sigrid growled, fierce determination coursing through her once again as she led the way out of her room. She opened the door and a rather large group of dwarrow, one hobbit, and her little brother quickly moved away, all except the golden-haired prince who stepped forward and pulled her down into a kiss without hesitation.

“You’ll mess her lips if you keep that up,” Lira commented as she passed. “Don’t ruin my hard work.”

Fili drew back, his mouth supporting some of the paint that had rubbed off Sigrid’s. “You look as fierce as any warrior dam of Erebor. Please tell me I can come to watch you put Peder in his place.”

Something in Sigrid thrilled proudly at the sight of the red paint on his lips knowing where it came from. “By all means,” she said and took his arm when he offered it.

Bard waited for them by the door and took in her appearance.

“Making a statement once again, are we?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Peder obviously needs the reminder,” Sigrid said, feeling a slight sense of disappointment when Bilbo handed Fili a handkerchief to wipe his mouth on. The prince shook his head and passed it back without using it and Sigrid found herself smirking again in triumphant delight.

“I’ll give you the first go at him then,” Bard said and led the way out the front door of their house. “I sent word for Peder to meet us in my office.”

The dwarrow, hobbit, elf, and two younger humans followed behind them, all curious and eager to see what would happen.

~*~*~

Fili couldn’t find it in him to care that Sigrid’s lip paint stained his mouth. In fact, he felt like wearing it as a badge of honor and a reminder to all those that sought to court her that she had already chosen him. As he escorted her to City Hall behind her father, he felt pride thrill through him at the sheer determination she exuded with every step they took side by side. He tried his best not to outright swagger along beside her in glee.

Peder waited outside Bard’s office, pacing back and forth when they arrived. At the wound of so many feet approaching, the man looked up and the color drained from his face. When he took in the sight of Sigrid his steps faltered and Fili resisted the urge to laugh maniacally.

“Peder,” Bard said. “Please step inside my office. I do believe my daughter and her fiancé have something to discuss with you.”

“Of-of course,” Peder said and ducked into the room when Bard unlocked the door. Sigrid swept in behind him and Fili followed, pulling one of his knives free of a sleeve and spinning it casually in his fingers, fixing his gaze on Peder instead of on Sigrid.

Sigrid walked around to the far side of Bard’s desk and sat in his chair, clearly displaying her position over Peder’s. Fili stood behind her and to the right, looming on purpose. From the way the man’s eyes kept darting towards him nervously, he figured the tactic was working.

“Perhaps you’d like to explain why someone showed up at my home this evening, on the same night I served dinner to my future in-laws, seeking to court me?”

“Really poor luck?” Peder ventured.

Sigrid growled at the man and Fili tried to ignore the sudden flood of arousal curling deep in his abdomen. “He bore a letter written by you which he received one month ago,” she snapped and tossed the letter onto the desk between them. “I hope you have a good explanation. Otherwise, you’ll be charged with treason for attempting to sabotage my marriage with the heir to our closest ally, both geographical and political.”

Peder turned green around the mouth and Fili wondered if the man would need to make a sudden exit towards the nearest privy to lose his supper. “No one should have arrived yet,” the man squeaked.

Sigrid shifted forward in her chair, bracing her forearms against it. “‘Yet’?” she echoed. “What? Were they meant to arrive during my wedding in an attempt to stop it?”

“No! Of course not!” Peder cried, eyes once again flicking towards Fili when he gave his knife a quick toss in the air and caught it deftly in a grip obviously meant for an attack, just to scare the man. “They weren’t supposed to arrive until after the wedding.”

“After?” Sigrid demanded and Fili felt something inside him freeze. “You sent letters regarding courtship inviting men to arrive after my wedding?”

“Yes?” Peder’s shoulders hunched. “Your sister will be of age soon and-”

“Tilda is _twelve_!” Sigrid snarled and lunged to her feet. “She won’t be old enough for courtship for at least four more years and you’re already inviting men from other kingdoms to come to court her?”

“He what?” Bard shoved the door aside, murder in his eyes.

Fili caught a quick glimpse of Sigrid’s face as she went to round the desk. He almost laughed. Peder was about to die a very painful and messy death if she managed to get a hold of him now.

“She’ll be the eldest daughter, Your Majesty,” Peder said, quailing away towards the nearest wall. Fili quickly stepped around behind him, cutting off any escape from the two irate royals. “It would be smart to find a suitable match for her while she is young, to strengthen ties with other kingdoms.”

“She’s too young,” Bard snapped and reached out to grab the back of Peder’s neck. “Explain to me why I shouldn’t let Sigrid, who practically raised her younger sister as her own daughter, tear you limb from limb.”

The man started to visibly quake when he looked over at Sigrid, one of her throwing knives in hand and her other fingering the hilt of her sword.

“Not that one, My Dear,” Fili said, taking the blade from her hand. He reached into his coat and drew out one of his longer daggers. “Use this.”

Peder sagged slightly in Bard’s grip when Sigrid hefted Fili’s knife. “Please don’t kill me!”

Sigrid stalked forward another step or two. “You are trying to marry off my baby sister for political reasons when she’s barely twelve years old.”

“There are girls her age capable of having children.”

Sigrid backhanded the man, leaving two deep cuts on his face where the rings she wore connected. Fili recognized them and made a note to thank his mother for letting his intended wear them. He then started to think better of handing his knife to her. He had a feeling that once she calmed she would regret murdering the man that was now groveling at her feet.

“You’re despicable,” Sigrid spat and then looked to her father. “Do something with him before I do something you will regret.”

"I'm tempted to let you do as you please," her father said. At the same time, he looked over at Fili and jerked his head toward the door.

Understanding, Fili carefully reached for the knife in Sigrid’s hand. He pried some of her fingers loose until she released the hilt. He took it from her and stowed it away again before wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her from the room. He fixed Peder with the glare he’d learned from his uncle for good measure.

Tilda stood with Bain but ran at Sigrid, wrapping her arms around her sister’s waist when they stepped out the door and it closed behind them. “Please don’t make me get married,” the girl murmured into her sister’s shoulder.

Sigrid pressed a kiss to her younger sister’s hair. “You’ll come to stay with me in Erebor before I let that happen,” she promised and just held her sister for a few more moments.

Fili listened to Bard as the man voiced his own anger. “Peder won’t be attempting anything of the like ever again,” he said. “Your father just banished him from Dale.”

“Good,” Sigrid said with a decisive nod. She gently pulled Tilda away from her. “Why don’t you and Bain go home, take the others with you? Start some games. I’ll wait for Da and meet you there.”

Tilda scrubbed at her face with her wrists and nodded. She turned and the group all left City Hall. Fili stayed with Sigrid, sitting next to her when she moved to a bench a bit down the hallway. They sat in silence and he held her hand as she sat staring at her knees, her jaw clenched. After a time, he released her hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, brushing a kiss into her hair near her ear.

“I will never force any of our children to marry for anything less than love,” she told him fiercely.

He didn’t comment on the likelihood of them having dwarflings. “I promise you will never have to even consider it,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos!
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	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard and Fili can't sleep.
> 
> Sigrid gets thrown about.
> 
> Beorn needs to send more honey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am humbled by the amount of support you all have shown me so far. We are coming to the end soon. I promise there will be Bagginshield after this one is done but I may not start posting it until December. It's going to be a very busy rest of the month for me.
> 
> You all are amazing and wonderful. Please, enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 23

“How did you sleep last night?”

Sigrid yawned as she walked into the common room, hair a mess, wrapped up in her favorite dressing gown, one of the last things that would be packed that morning after she left the suite of rooms her family occupied in Erebor. “Just fine Da,” she said and reached for a slice of toast. “I see you didn’t sleep well.”

“Give your old man a break,” he said rubbing at the deep black bags under his eyes and the stubble on his face. “His oldest daughter is getting married today.”

Sigrid leaned over the back of his chair and hugged him around the shoulders. “It won’t be too bad,” she said. “The day isn’t about you so no one will be staring and judging you as you hate and I’m not going to be living far away, just here in Erebor. You can visit any day. And, to top it all off, Peder is going to be heading off any suitors that come looking to court Tilda today. He has to take all the blame and make sure no one gets mad at you for it. _And_ you still get to banish him when he’s addressed every single one of them.”

“That’s not what kept me up most of the night,” he said as Sigrid sat in the chair next to him and started dishing up some breakfast for herself. “Although being rid of Peder is a nice thought.”

“Eat Da. We don’t want you passing out during the ceremony.” She pushed the plate of toast to him as well as a pot of honey.

“How are you so calm?” he asked, sounding affronted and liberally drizzled honey onto the toast she’d pushed at him. “I was a mess on my wedding day. So was your mother now that I think of it.”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Maybe it hasn’t sunk in yet? Either that or there’s really nothing for me to be worried about. All the arrangements are made, I’m marrying the dwarf I want to, the dragon is gone. Why should today make me any more nervous than any other?”

“Because if you don’t hurry and eat, we’re not going to have time to do your hair,” Tilda scolded as she came into the dining room. She was not yet dressed for the wedding but did wear a skirt and blouse that would be easily exchanged for the gown she’d wear. Her hair was already curled and pinned up with little gold and red thrush hairpins Fili had made for her.

“Coming Til,” Sigrid said and grabbed a few things she could eat while sitting at her vanity while Tilda and a maid or two fussed over her hair, pinning her curls to the back of her head with the gold sun pins she favored, leaving her betrothal braid swinging free next to her left ear. She propped her feet on the edge of the vanity and ate while Tilda rhapsodized over all the preparations and how lovely everything looked. The maid was excited too, chattering with the younger girl.

“You have visitors,” Bard called through the door. “Are you decent?”

“Yes,” Sigrid called back and dropped her feet to the floor. She dusted the crumbs off her fingers as Bard came in the room, Tauriel and Dis with him, each loaded with supplies.

“Wonderful timing,” Tilda said with a smile. “All done with your hair.” She carefully patted the back of Sigrid’s head once before leaving the room with the maid and Bard, waving at Dis and Tauriel as she went.

“As I’m sure you’ve gathered by now,” Tauriel said, “Dwarrow clothing is rather fiddly. We’ll stay to help if you like.”

“Thank you,” Sigrid said with a smile. “That would be wonderful.”

“First, you must open these without us here,” Dis said and set aside the small pile of boxes she carried. Tauriel draped the gown she carried across the foot of Sigrid’s bed and followed Dis to the door. “Let us know when you’ve looked them all over. We’ll help you put them on after the dress.”

Once they’d left, Sigrid went to the first box and opened it. Inside was the necklace she and Fili had worked on designing. It was as lovely as he’d drawn with two chains crisscrossed by gold wire so thin it shifted like string. Three diamonds hung from it where the two chains joined. The next box was smaller and contained the ear cuffs, two gold chains trailing down the back that would connect to her mother’s earrings. Another box held seven thin golden bracelets she didn’t remember discussing. When she saw the small silver stars on each one, she smiled, recognizing his homage to the Stars of Durin. Another box held a set of slightly larger golden bracelets, one with a thrush and the other a sun with a few plain as well. There were a few rings for her to choose from. In the last box, she found the delicate circlet he’d made of the thinnest mithril and clearest diamonds. So understated in design but elegant and lovely all the same. She smiled at all of the jewelry, pleased beyond measure at Fili’s hard work.

She took a moment to just appreciate the work and beauty before calling Dis and Tauriel back into the room. They set to work preparing her for the wedding. She wore her throwing knives as well at Dis’ insistence. If a courting gift could be worn, it should be during the wedding, she’d said, so Sigrid wore them, oddly comforted by having her weapons on her.

The circlet remained in its box. Thorin would place it on her head after the wedding when he crowned her a princess consort of Erebor.

Finally clothed and adorned, Sigrid redid the betrothal braid, enjoying the motions one last time. Bard entered just as she was finishing. Dis and Tauriel quietly slipped out, giving the two a moment alone.

Bard came to stand next to his daughter. “You are to marry today My Girl,” he said, eyes bright and voice choked. He pulled her into an embrace, careful of her clothing, and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “You will always have a home in Dale,” he told her.

“Thank you Da,” she said and hugged him back. They stood there for a while.

“I am proud of you Sigrid,” Bard said, stepping back and placing his hands on her shoulders to look her in the eyes. “You have overcome so much in your life, grown to be a wonderful young woman, and helped raise your brother and sister. A father could ask for nothing more from his daughter.” He hugged her again and Sigrid buried her face into his chest, willing away tears.

“We had better leave,” Bard said after a time, clearing his throat and stepping away. He held his arm out to her and together, they left her room.

~*~*~

“Come on, Fee! Time to get up and get ready! You’re getting married today!” Kili jumped on Fili’s bed just as he used to when they were dwarflings and he groaned at the bouncing.

“I fell asleep about two hours ago. Go away.”

Kili laughed. “Nervous are you?” he asked even as he jumped off the bed and whisked the covers off his brother’s legs. “Too bad! Come on. Bombur made you breakfast.”

Fili groaned. “I don’t think I can eat,” he admitted. “I think I’ll just throw it all up.” He sat up and pushed his hair out of his face, fingers snagging on half unraveled braids and various snarls.

“Nonsense,” Thorin said as he entered their rooms. “Durins don’t throw up from nerves.”

“Says the dwarf that lost everything in his stomach the day he was crowned king,” Bilbo said as he followed Thorin. “Come on Fili,” he said gently. “Go sit down and eat. Thorin and Kili will help you with your hair while you do. Start with the tea. It should help settle your stomach.”

Trying not to cringe at the thought of someone else besides Sigrid doing his hair, he did as he was told, knowing tradition dictated that close family put his braids in that day, all except the betrothal. “How much time do we have?” he asked around a yawn.

“About an hour before we have to be in the Hall of Kings,” Kili said. “Amad and Tauriel have already left to help Sigrid get ready.”

Fili nodded and sat, picking at the food in front of him and eating a bite here and there when Thorin tugged sharply on his hair to remind him to continue eating or when Bilbo pushed something at him.

When they finished his hair, he fled back to his rooms, intent on getting a little time alone to try to remember how to breathe, but they followed, waiting outside the door while he got dressed. As soon as he was clothed, he let them in, knowing he wouldn’t have much other choice. He started stashing knives on his person as Thorin looked over the jewelry he’d made for the occasion.

The king picked up the coronet he’d forged, admiring the lines that flowed along the same as his Raven Crown, just understated.

“Well done,” he said, “but it’s all a bit simple. You know you have untold wealth at your disposal.”

Fili snatched the ring Kili was flicking into the air and slid it onto a finger. “I come from simple means,” he reminded his uncle. “I’d rather not forget that, even on my wedding day.”

Thorin nodded once and handed the coronet over when Fili held out a hand. After rearranging his hair over parts of the crown, he spread his hands wide.

“Well? How do I look?” he asked. “Do you think Sigrid will be pleased?”

“Very fine,” Bilbo said with a smile and Thorin nodded his approval, pride shining in his eyes as he tapped their foreheads together.

Kili threw his arm around his brother when their uncle stepped back. “I think so,” he said. “It’s amazing how good a set of nice clothes can make an ugly dwarf look.”

Fili elbowed his brother and walked out of the room for the last time. Any belongings still there would be moved to his rooms that would be connected to Sigrid’s.

~*~*~

The moment Sigrid stepped out of the royal wing, most of the Company and their Ones descended on her, surrounding her and her family. Each of them wore their finest clothes and bristled with weaponry.

“Hello,” she said, curious as to what was happening. “Have I missed some part of dwarrow culture again?”

“Aye Lass,” Nori said appearing next to her with his mace in hand. Lira walked next to him, a rapier at her hip and a pair of short hafted axes in her hands. “Tradition says the bride and groom should be escorted by their closest kin, armed and ready to battle any who would separate them. Gloin, his wife Breila, Balin, Thorin, Bilbo, Kili, Tauriel, and Dis are with the prince. The rest of us get the honor of walking with you where your kin aren't dwarrow.”

Sigrid smiled. “Thank you all,” she said loud enough for them to hear and then quieter to Nori. “Should I be openly carrying weapons?”

“If you have them on you, yes, just until we get to the Hall.”

Sigrid pulled the knives from her arm sheathes and continued with her entourage to the Hall of Kings.

“Ready?” Nori asked just before they rounded the final corner.

She grinned at the former thief and put her knives away. “I am.”

Nori nodded to Dwalin who came over to her and picked her up, settling her easily on his shoulder and bicep of one arm. She’d been warned of this part and tucked her feet to the side, hooking them around the edge of Dwalin’s back for stability. Bard, Tilda, and Bain continued on in front of the group, taking their places at the front of the crowds of dwarrow.

“Hang on Lass,” Dwalin warned and she reached down to grip his shoulder and the arm that held onto her thighs. “As soon as we get the signal, we go. Don’t let anyone on their side touch you except your prince and keep your feet off the floor at all costs.”

She nodded, swallowing and doing her best to brace herself for what came next, as she didn’t know. They’d told her Dwalin would carry her into the Hall but after that, no one would tell her anything.

A horn sounded one long low note. When the last echo of it faded, Dwalin charged forward with a roar, his large war hammer clutched in one hand and ready for battle. The other Company members with her followed him, shouting war cries and brandishing weapons. Not knowing what else to do, Sigrid shouted wordlessly with everyone else.

From the far side of the Hall, Fili and his family charged, the sounds of their voices competing with those around her. She couldn’t get a good look at him, shielded by Thorin and Kili as he was.

The two groups came together with a clash of weapons. Thorin went straight for Dwalin and Sigrid held on as the two came together with a clash of weapons.

“Dori!” Dwalin called and suddenly Sigrid was airborne. Now she understood why Dori had insisted on her having trousers under her skirts. She flailed until Dori caught her and held onto her the way Dwalin had. Gloin and a dwarrowdam Sigrid had yet to meet broke past Ori to get to Dori. The old, fussy dwarf tutted as he turned and handed her carefully to Lira.

“Don’t muss her clothes,” he said and turned back to Gloin and the dam who must be his wife Breila. Sigrid vaguely remembered her from the dinner she’d made for everyone a few weeks ago.

“Hello Darling,” Lira said spinning away from Tauriel and giving Sigrid a grin. “Having fun yet?”

“I’m awfully confused,” Sigrid confessed. “Is this a giant game of keep away and I’m the prize?”

Nori laughed as he swung his mace at the elf maid currently trying to stab his One. “That’s about the size of it!”

“Then how am I supposed to get married?” She demanded and pulled the ax Lira carried on her back off and using it to deflect Balin’s sword.

“Fili has to reach you,” Lira said and turned to engage Balin. “Our job is to hold him off as long as possible. He must show his devotion and determination to marry you. Give that here,” she reached for the ax. “Oin!”

Sigrid was suddenly whipped away from Lira by the old dwarf. Balin tried to follow but Lira unsheathed her rapier and leveled it at him with a wide grin. “Go ahead grey-beard. Try getting by me.”

Sigrid gripped Oin’s arm, trying to right herself as her weight pitched backward over his arm. “This is so much more fun than human weddings,” she remarked, grinning widely.

Bofur barked a laugh as he took her from Oin. “Glad the lad chose you,” he said as he passed her along to Nori so he could engage the charging Kili. “You’ll fit right in with us.”

Nori shifted to the side. “Watch it,” he called. “Here comes your dwarf.” He scampered away, jumping into a crowd of fighting dwarrow, dodging fists, feet, heads, and weapons in a skipping, hopping dance that jostled Sigrid. He came out on the other side, spun and gave Fili a challenging grin and a rude hand gesture from across the mass even as Sigrid clutched at his arm and shoulder. The surrounding crowds crowed with laughter.

“So, why can’t I get down and fight too?” Sigrid asked.

“Game’s over when your feet hit the ground. Whatever dwarf is touching you at the time becomes your intended and you start a new Courtship from the beginning with them. Fili would have to Challenge for your hand and you’d start Courting him all over again from that point if he won.” Nori said and passed her to Ori. 

“Sorry about this,” the scribe said as he skirted the edge of the fighting. Somewhere along the line, he’d picked up Dwalin’s war hammer. He swung it and connected solidly with Gloin’s shoulder. He passed her to Bifur’s waiting grasp.

The eldest Ur family member carried her around for a while, muttering and growling khuzdul as he worked his way through the fight, avoiding as much battle as he could. Finally, he was forced to hand her to Bombur when Bilbo appeared seemingly from nowhere and gripped his boar spear with both hands and started trying to take it away.

Bombur plowed his way through the mass, uncaring of those that got in his way.

“Hello,” Sigrid said and gripped his extra iron ladle and smacked Kili in the head with it as they barreled by the younger prince. “Where’s your lovely wife today?”

“She’s in the crowds watching,” he said. “Wanted to be here protecting you but we found out last week she’s with child again.”

“Congratulations!” Sigrid said with a grin. “That’s wonderful news!”

“Thank you. Off you go now.” He handed her back to Dwalin who hoisted her high on one hand as Thorin, Kili, and Dis all surrounded him.

With a grunt, Dwalin tossed her again. She twisted, her hands reaching for Nori and Lira when an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her down prematurely. She grunted at the sudden change in direction, tucking her feet up so they didn’t meet the floor and end the battle. She started struggling to twist away, still reaching for Nori and Lira as they fought to get past Balin, Bilbo, and Oin.

“Put your feet down, Ibrizinlêkhê,” Fili coaxed. “Quick before Nori takes you.”

Sigrid dropped her feet to the ground and turned in Fili’s hold. She only got half way before Fili bent her over backward and kissed her thoroughly before righting her. Cheering erupted from the surrounding dwarrow, Tauriel, Bilbo, and her family.

“I like dwarrow weddings,” Sigrid told him with a giggle. “This was fun.” She took a moment to breathe and take in his appearance. “You look very handsome,” she complimented as dwarrow shifted around them, creating a ring with them in the middle.

Fili looked her over. “You are by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said. “You have no idea how glad I am to have caught you.”

“Probably about as glad as I am,” she said, resting her forehead against his.

“I’m afraid now’s the boring part,” Fili told her quietly as Bilbo handed her a bouquet of bright red geraniums and yellow, orange, and dark pink alstroemeria. Thorin stepped forward, somehow completely pristine after the fight but now wearing his crown and holding a large tome. He opened it to a bookmarked page and a hush fell over the crowds.

Sigrid tried to follow the proceedings but still struggled with the language. Luckily, she knew enough to be able to properly respond when she was expected to participate. She repeated after Thorin when her time came, words of loyalty, devotion, partnership, and strength. At Fili’s tiny nod and the indicative flick of his eyes, she reached up and started unwinding the betrothal braid in his hair as she spoke. Then he spoke the same words as he undid her braid, unraveling it with his fingers.

Thorin spoke of the eternal binding, of the life they would share together, the strength they must have to face all trials before them, and the devotion they must show each other in all things that would better them as individuals and as a married couple. As his words rolled through the Hall of Kings, Fili and Sigrid braided each other’s hair simultaneously, combining the pattern that told Fili’s attributes with Sigrid’s. When they finished and Thorin paused in his words, Magnus stepped forward at Sigrid’s signal. Fili reached into the wooden basket the dog carried in his mouth and pulled out a pair of golden beads, sparsely decorated with two small stones of alexandrite and red beryl each. Once the beads were secured, Thorin smiled at the two and spoke in Westron, the only part of the ceremony that was similar to a human wedding. “I now pronounce you wed. May your hands be forever clasped in friendship and your hearts joined forever in love.”

Sigrid wasn’t sure he’d finished speaking yet when Fili surged up onto his toes and pulled her down into a passionate kiss that would not have been at all acceptable to display in public if they were in Dale, no matter the circumstances. She returned the kiss with equal passion, digging her fingers of one hand into Fili’s hair as she held her bouquet at her side with the other. They remained together for what felt a short moment before someone, probably Bard, cleared his throat loudly. Sheepishly, Sigrid drew away, grinning widely at her new husband who chased after her a moment, seeking another heated kiss.

She faced Thorin again to remind Fili they had an audience and dropped to her knees as Fili took a few steps away with a resigned sigh. He took a box from his mother and offered its contents to his uncle. Thorin pulled out the delicate looking mithril and diamond circlet. 

“Dwarrow of Erebor! I give you Sigrid, Daughter of King Bard the Dragonslayer, called Wolfsbane. Princess Consort Under the Mountain.” Thorin set the circlet carefully on her brow.

The ensuing roar of approval challenged Smaug’s bellowing roar in volume. Fili stepped forward again. He picked her up, wrapping an arm around her legs just below her bum and the other just above it, low on her back and he spun them around joyfully. Sigrid laughed, draping one arm around his shoulders and settling her other hand along his jawline, his golden beard tickling her palm. She pressed their foreheads together, noses brushing.

“Ibrizinlêkhê,” Fili murmured through his laughter.

“Yes,” Sigrid agreed. “Yours always.”

He tipped his chin up and kissed his wife.

~*~*~

Fili barely noticed the decorations, too focused on his wife. And wasn’t that strange? After all the panic he’d felt that morning and the night before, after all his anxiety and second-guessing, that one simple word pushed everything aside and left him feeling at peace. He kissed her fingers, her cheek, her lips, her forehead any chance he got as they rode in the carriage to Dale for the party planned there. Sigrid leaned against him slightly, her feet tucked up on the seat next to her as she just enjoyed the ride and his attention.

“Have I told you how lovely you look?” Fili asked, kissing the top of her head.

“A few times,” she said with a smile, turning her head to look at him. He kissed the tip of her nose. “Do you know, I’m much more nervous about going to Dale than I was about getting married this morning?”

He chuckled. “It seems I passed my nerves to you then. I am completely at ease now but could barely sleep last night for all my worries about today.”

Sigrid sat up and rubbed her thumb under his eye, tracing the barely visible dark circle there. It would take more than one sleepless night to make a dwarf look truly tired. “Dare I ask what you were so worried about?”

“Someone on your side dropping you prematurely and having to start our courtship over again. Choking on my breakfast. Sickness striking Dale. Another dragon descending on the mountain. You know, silly things.” He shrugged as she laughed.

“I’ll make sure Da protects us from dragons,” she laughed and sat up straight. “Come,” she said, patting her lap. “You can have a nap now. We won’t reach Dale for another hour or so.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and leaned close to her so Bofur wouldn’t hear him from where the miner sat driving the carriage, “That position would be rather intimate and would be perceived as inappropriate by your people, I’d imagine, even if we are married.”

She shook her head with a fond, exasperated smile. “I’ll wake you when we get close to the walls,” she promised and tugged his sleeve.

Happily, he allowed her to tug him down onto her lap. He shifted until he lay on his back, using her thigh as a pillow. He bent one leg up onto the seat and left the other on the floor. “Thank you Ibrizinlêkhê,” he said, brushing his fingers along her cheek before settling down for a nap. He drifted off to the feel of her fingers running through the loose strands of his hair and beard as she softly hummed.

He started awake, feeling as if he’d just fallen asleep.

“Good morning Dearest,” Sigrid said when he met her grey-green eyes. “We’re almost to Dale.”

He stretched his arms above his head and smiled when she bent and kissed him gently. “Mmmm… This is a sight I wouldn’t mind waking up to every day,” he said and pulled her close for another kiss before sitting upright.

“That may just happen,” Sigrid reminded him and he couldn’t decide on her tone of voice. Instead of worrying about it, he settled back in his seat and took her hand in his as they rode through the gates.

Dale’s citizens lined the streets and cheered as the royal couple passed. Here much of the hard work from their wedding planning was on display as it had been throughout the public areas of Erebor and especially in the Hall of Kings. Flowers lined the main street with ribbons and banners stretched across the way. Unlike the human tradition demanding everything be white, color stretched everywhere, matching the bundles of bright flowers in tasteful patterns of blue, reds, and oranges mixed in with the traditional white.

When the carriage pulled up to the square, Fili climbed out and helped Sigrid down. Her gown now on display sent a ripple of shock through the crowds.

“What just happened?” Fili asked as his eyes flicked at the crowds.

“My dress isn’t white,” Sigrid said. “That typically only happens if the bride isn’t a maiden.”

Fili snorted. “Humans have the oddest ideas,” he said as he offered her his arm. “Why aren’t they talking about my clothes?”

“They will,” Sigrid said. “All the lovely colors are so foreign in a wedding for my people. I wouldn’t be surprised if we set a trend, with the men at the very least.”

“Odd, as I said,” he murmured and led her up the path left for them to the front of the City Square where an old gentleman dressed all in black excepting an overly starched white shirt waited for them. “Now, this is a typical wedding ceremony?”

“That’s right,” Sigrid said. “The priest will probably have a speech to deliver as well but we don’t have to do much but put rings on each other’s fingers and act like we’re interested in what he’s saying.”

Still not quite understanding the importance but understanding this was one of the concessions in the wedding contract, Fili just shrugged and took his place before the priest, taking both of Sigrid’s hands in his.

When Sigrid said the priest would make a speech, she hadn’t been joking, he decided. The old man droned on and on about the duty a wife had to her husband and the need for her to be devoted wholly to him. He waited for the part that would define his duties to her according to her people’s culture but it never came. Instead, the ancient priest asked if they had the rings.

A bit perplexed, Fili accepted the ring Kili held out to him. It was the simple gold band that had belonged to Sigrid’s mother. He slid it onto the ring finger on Sigrid’s left hand and then she slid a band of similar make, just wider, onto his hand as well.

And that was it.

They weren’t even told to kiss.

How disappointing.

And odd.

Huh.

They turned away from the priest and cheering erupted again as they worked their way back down the aisle again, arm in arm to the City Hall where a lunch had been prepared, including a magnificent honey and raspberry cake decorated to look like Erebor and Dale crafted by Bombur. Fili almost felt sorry for cutting into it but soon forgot his remorse when Sigrid shoved a piece of it in his mouth, smearing it across his mustache and beard with a wicked grin on her face.

“You going to come here and clean up this mess?” he asked her with a mischievous smirk. She just laughed and delicately wiped off the crumbs he’d smeared on her lips. He licked at the mess on his face, not wanting to miss a single bit of the wonderful cake. He’d have to see about setting up permanent commerce with Beorn for his honey. Those giant bees sure did an amazing job of making it.

They started the dancing when Kili and Thorin stepped up to play a very traditional dwarrow song, meant for such occasions. Fili’d learned the dance as a dwarfling and joined Sigrid in confidence through the complimenting steps. She’d practiced for weeks with his mother, he’d been told.

The party lasted into the late afternoon. The dwarrow, Tauriel, Bilbo, and Sigrid soon had to return to the mountain for the Durin’s Day celebrations. Fili stepped back as Sigrid said a fond, if a little teary, goodbye to her family. As she hugged Tilda, he approached Bard. “You are all welcome in the mountain at any time. I will not have my wife separated from her family.”

The man smiled and extended his hand for Fili to take which he did. “You are part of this family now too Son,” Bard reminded him with a half-smile. “Take good care of my daughter.”

“You have my word,” Fili promised and then it was time to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave your comments. I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter in particular.
> 
> Please leave kudos. Did you know that if you filter by kudos on the Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies) tags, I am listed as the 21st story on the list out of 493 (currently at the posting of this chapter)? I do believe that by the time I wake up in the morning, I'll be in the top 20 and that makes me so very joyful and humbled at the same time. Thank you all for the love!
> 
> Please leave prompts for Figrid, Bagginshield, and Kiliel. I keep a notebook handy with all your ideas so they don't get lost. I want to fill every single prompt I get.
> 
> Happy reading!


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sigrid is uncomfortable.
> 
> Balin pays a visit.
> 
> Fili is relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight somewhere.
> 
> Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers. I hope you didn't overindulge so much that you are now in a turkey-induced coma and unable to read.
> 
> Some of you have asked for the wedding night. This chapter contains some of it. The more graphic details are left out. I'm not changing the rating. HOWEVER, if you want the graphic part of the wedding night, let me know and I'll post it. But if you ask me to post it, you must also tell me if you want Fili's point of view or Sigrid's or both. I can't decide. I hope this is enough to satisfy for now.
> 
> On a final note, this is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue. I'm still working on NaNoWriMo (Agent_Snark if you want to find me there), but after I will restart work on the Bagginshield as I've had a lot of requests for it. There will also eventually be a Kiliel. I look forward to seeing you all there, leaving kudos and comments on both.
> 
> On with the chapter!

Chapter 24

The Durin’s Day celebrations lasted long into the night but Fili and Sigrid slipped away a few hours after the dancing started, hand in hand as they returned to their rooms. Cheering and a few drunken jeers called after them. Fili started to part from her in the hall to head for his own, but she shook her head minutely, her eyes flicking toward a guard stationed at the end of the hall that watched them from the corner of his eyes.

“Force of habit,” he murmured to her and followed her into her rooms. Once the door was shut behind them, they both heaved identical sighs of relief and leaned against the closed door. They glanced at each other and started laughing. If there was a slight note of hysteria to it, neither of them said anything.

“This has been a long day,” Sigrid said as she walked further into the room. She sat down in one of the wingback chairs before the cozy fire and took off the dainty red shoes she’d worn all day.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” Fili said and went into her bedroom and through the door to his own. He went straight to the chest at the foot of his bed and unlocked it. He retrieved the box he’d left there over a month ago and returned to Sigrid’s side. “Normally, the third courting gift is given before the wedding but, with the personal nature of this and some of the implications, I thought it best to wait until now.”

He took a deep breath and handed her the box. “I present to you my third courting gift, made by my own hand and with you in my mind and heart at all moments of its creation. May it bring you joy and remind you that you are treasured above all else to me.”

Sigrid opened the box and just stared at its contents for a moment. She reached in and shakily took out a silver hairbrush, the back carved to look like the mountain ridge where they first ran into each other over a year before after they’d first been told that they would need to marry for the good of their kingdoms. Along with the ridgeline, two figures stood there and she recognized herself in the dancing woman and Fili in the violinist. There was even a set of crutches leaning against a boulder. She ran her fingers across the surface reverently before looking down into the box. She pulled out a silver hand mirror next with a sun, thrushes, alstroemeria, and other flowers carved into the back and along the edges on the front and down the handle. A comb was last, carved with geometric designs that exactly matched the ones she’d embroidered on the coat she’d given to Fili at the beginning of their courtship.

“They’re absolutely beautiful Fili,” she said. “I will cherish them always.”

Fili smiled gently at her, pleased with her reaction to them. “Put them away for now,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll brush your hair before bed.”

And suddenly the feeling in the room changed, awkwardness and a strange expectant anticipation flooding around them. 

Sigrid cleared her throat, and she avoided his gaze as she carefully put her gifts back into their velvet-lined box. She stammered a few times, trying to find a way to ask the question roiling through both their minds. “How do you- How should- What- Should we-” She huffed and pursed her lips as blood flooded her cheeks and down her throat and up to her ears. “This is ridiculous,” she finally said. “We knew this was coming. Why is it so hard?”

Fili fiddled with a knife he’d had stashed up his sleeve. “Because as much as we’d like it to be otherwise, we’re still not in love with each other and this feels like something we should only do with someone we love?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s probably a good portion of it,” Sigrid agreed, nodding. “So what do we do now?”

Fili shrugged. “I’m not sure. Would you like some time to rest or should we just… well… go to bed?”

Sigrid ran her fingers around a corner of the box on her lap. “Perhaps,” she said and her voice was a bit high and shaky. She cleared her throat and tried again with little change to her tone. “Perhaps we should prepare for bed?”

Fili jumped at the suggestion of something normal. “Yes. I’ll knock before I return.”

Sigrid nodded and they both retired to their rooms.

Fili took his time changing into the soft linen tunic and trousers he’d started wearing to bed so he was used to them by the time he and Sigrid married. For decades before now, he’d always slept in as little clothing as possible or none at all. He didn’t think Sigrid would appreciate that. At least not the few times they would share a bed, this night included. Finally, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He knocked on the door joining their rooms.

He heard Sigrid grumble something before calling him into the room. She stood there, still mostly clothed and frowning fiercely. “I hate wedding costumes,” she growled. “Apparently dwarrow do the same thing as humans and make the bride’s clothes near impossible to get off by herself.”

Fili’s eyes widened. “You can’t get that off?” he asked, eyeing the dress.

“No!” she practically wailed. “The ties and buttons are just out of reach!” She reached behind her, fingers scrabbling along material to demonstrate as frustrated sounds escaped her.

Fili swallowed the nerves clawing up his throat. “Would you like me to call someone in to help?” he asked.

Sighing, Sigrid shook her head. “No, I don’t think we can. The contract says we must remain alone unless there is an emergency until the morning.”

“Curse all contracts,” Fili muttered. “All right. Come here. I’ll undo everything and then leave so you can finish changing.”

Sigrid nodded and turned her back to him. For a few moments, he just stared. “How did you get into this mess?” he asked, trying to figure out where to start.

“Your mother and Tauriel helped,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him.

Taking a deep breath, he started to work, pulling at cords and undoing buttons. “How many layers are there?” he groused as he pulled on another string to unravel another bow. He’d already dug through three layers of cloth and felt like he wasn’t getting anywhere. Sigrid didn’t respond, just waited for him to finish. Finally, he pulled apart the last buttons at her nape and the front of her dress sagged forward. He immediately spun and headed for the door to the sitting room. “Let me know when you’re done,” he said and went to sit at the fire, hoping he could claim the heat burning in his cheeks was from the flames.

~*~*~

Sigrid stepped over to the chest of drawers in a corner of her room, checking the contents of each until she found one with night dresses. Here she hesitated, searching through the choices. The cold seeped into her bare feet as she deliberated.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered for the second time that evening and just reached in and grabbed one at random. Shaking the garment out, she immediately turned to put it back. It was so short! Did someone make a mistake and leave a dwarrowdam’s night clothes in her dresser? Before she could stuff it back into the drawer, she paused to really look the white garment over. She walked over to the floor length mirror and held it up to herself, trying to look at it objectively and not from the stuffy standards human culture had ingrained in her since her earliest childhood.

The nightgown was mostly unadorned except a little lace at the collar and a slight ruffle at the ends of the full-length sleeves. It would fit her figure nicely without being revealing and also reducing the risk of it tangling around her as she rolled in her sleep. The hem was plain but only reached to just below her knees.

If she were to be painfully honest with herself, she liked the garment. It was simple and understated but still pretty. More importantly, she thought, well, rather hoped, the scandalously short length would give her courage when facing Fili and what was expected of them that night.

Taking a deep breath and willing the blush away, she pulled the nightgown on over her head. She’d been right about the length but ignored the part of her that demanded she take it off and stuff it into the deepest recesses of her wardrobe that were usually reserved for the uncomfortably lumpy socks Tilda had knitted her years ago but she didn’t have the heart to throw away as her little sister had been so proud of them.

As a compromise, Sigrid retrieved the plain but soft sage green dressing gown from the foot of her bed and pulled it on, leaving the belt untied and wishing it was just a bit longer so that it would reach her ankles instead of mid-calf. She took a deep breath, shoulders trembling a bit as she exhaled, resisted the urge to wrap the robe around her, and then walked into the sitting room.

Fili sat in front of the fire, waiting for her. He glanced over at the sound of her entrance and his already pink cheeks darkened further. He looked back at the flames.

“Sorry that took so long,” Sigrid said quietly as she sat back down in her chair. She tucked her feet up underneath her, trying to rewarm her bare toes and ignore the desire to tug at the hem of her shift so it would cover her knees. She’d have to look into getting large rugs for the floors.

“No need to apologize,” Fili told her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

She avoided his gaze in return, casting the occasional glance at him without turning her head. There had to be a way to do this. Plenty of people slept together without loving each other. Why was it so hard now? She pursed her lips, trying to figure out what to do. She knew a few women in Dale that had slept with men they didn’t love. She tried to remember what the cause of such dalliances was but could not think of it other than they usually involved large amounts of cheap ale.

She stifled a sigh. How she loathed this entire situation with a fiery passion.

Wait.

That was it.

Two weeks ago, in the garden in Dale, they’d briefly spoken of their future, offering each other one last chance to call the Courtship and the wedding off. Fili had told her there was passion between them, that he had a hard time controlling himself around her.

If that were true, why was this so hard now?

Because it was expected of them?

Because they were overthinking it?

What could she do?

She glanced around the room until she caught sight of the box he’d given her not half an hour before. Perhaps it held the answer.

She reached up a hand to her hair, feeling the pins crisscrossing through the knot there.

“Fili?” she asked tentatively and she ignored the blush raging in her cheeks. “Would you help me with my hair? I’m afraid if I leave it up any longer the pins will start to give me a headache.”

He smiled at her and stood, grasping at anything to break the tension. “Absolutely,” he said and picked up the box that held her new brush, comb, and mirror. Sigrid stood too and started walking to the doors to her bedroom.

“Sigrid?” he asked quietly.

“Are you coming? I’d imagine it’s hard to get to it all in one of those high-backed chairs.” She looked over her shoulder at him, standing in the doorway with one hand on the jamb. She continued in without him and heard him start to follow her seconds later. She grabbed the case for all her jeweled pins and sat on the stool set before her vanity.

Fili set the box down next to her and opened it, before opening the case for her pins. He carefully removed each one until her hair tumbled free. He even pulled out the bead on her marriage braid and let it unravel, helping it along gently with his fingers before picking up the brush. He started to carefully run it through her hair and Sigrid could almost feel him relax as he did so. She relaxed as well, enjoying the experience. They started a careful conversation about the day’s events and they relaxed further.

After a while, Fili set the brush aside and just ran his fingers through the length. “Would you like me to braid it for the night or leave it down?” he asked.

“Whichever you would prefer,” she said. He continued running his fingers through her hair for a few more minutes before bending, pulling her hair away from her neck, and placing a kiss to her cheek.

“You look lovely,” he murmured. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so.”

Sigrid blushed but met his eyes squarely in the mirror as she tilted her head to the side. He took the invitation and kissed her neck slowly. She wrapped her arm around his neck for a moment before sliding her hand to his bearded cheek and tilting his head up to look at her. Before she could change her mind, she pressed her lips to his and held him there.

The kiss started chastely, slowly growing more heated as Fili pulled away and returned again and again. Sigrid turned in her seat, reaching up to tangle her fingers in his hair. He licked her lower lip and she sighed softly against his mouth.

Fili drew her up from her seat and held onto her, still kissing her gently. “Come to bed with me,” he rasped, eyes half-lidded and dark with passion.

She kissed him again and let him lead her to the bed.

~*~*~

Sigrid woke the next morning, groggy and still half-dreaming something pleasant. Something light brushed across her bare shoulders, trailing back and forth. She scrubbed her nose against the firm surface under her cheek and settled down again with a sigh, curling up closer to the warmth beside her, delighting in it. Normally, when staying in the mountain, she woke up cold until the fires were lit. Had she slept in? Had a servant entered her rooms and lit them while she lay abed? It didn’t seem likely. Dwalin always made sure she was awake for a morning training session by either pounding on her door himself or sending someone else to do it, usually Nori who liked to break into her room and shout a war cry in her ear.

Whatever the reason for the warmth, she wasn’t about to question it. She yawned and relaxed, intent to fall back asleep. The light touch to her shoulders really was quite pleasant.

She shifted her hips around and paused as an ache spread in her low abdomen. She came fully awake with a groan, realizing what it was that had caused it and where the warmth she was clinging to originated.

She opened her eyes and shifted her head until she could see the amused blue-grey eyes of her husband as he smiled down at her, still lightly dragging his fingers back and forth across her bare – bare! – shoulders.

“Good morning Sigrid,” he said quietly. “How are you feeling?”

Blood flooded her cheeks and she turned her face away, burying it in his equally unclothed shoulder.

Fili laughed loudly, holding her close against him briefly. “After all we did last night, waking up and finding me here is what brings that pretty blush to your cheeks?” he asked.

“You’re horrible,” she said without pulling out of her spot. “I’d imagine I was blushing quite a bit last night as well.”

She could almost hear the smirk on his face. “You didn’t seem to think so last night. Oof!”

Sigrid continued to push at him, trying to get him away from her so she could hide from her mortification more easily. When he wouldn’t budge, she shifted away, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over her head and then dragging her covers up to her neck, tucking in beneath them.

Fili started pealing the pillow away from her face. “Come out of there, Ibrizinlêkhê. I’ll stop. There’s breakfast if you’re hungry.”

She shoved the pillow aside. “Food?” she asked. “I’m starving!” At the look on Fili’s face, she said, “Don’t even start,” before sliding to the edge of the bed, casting about for the short night dress or her dressing gown as she did so. She found the dressing gown a few feet from the bed. She hesitated for a moment but then moved to get up when she heard Fili climb out of the bed on the far side. She stood, intent on getting the robe and covering herself at least a little.

“Sigrid!”

She looked up at the alarm in his voice, searching for a threat. She didn’t immediately find one. “What is it?” she asked.

“Lay back down. I’ll go get Oin.”

Sigrid frowned. “What? Why?” She looked down at herself and found the source of his panic. “Oh,” she said, taking in the blood dried to her upper legs and staining the sheets she’d just vacated. 

Fili scrambled toward the door, barely pausing to pull on his trousers. When he reached the door to the sitting room Sigrid called for him to stop.

“Sigrid, you’re hurt. I’m getting Oin.”

“No, Fili, it’s fine. It’s normal. Stay.”

“Normal?” he asked and then suddenly paled. “Did I- Did I do this? Did I hurt you?”

Sigrid wrapped her robe around her before responding. “Yes, and yes, but it’s nothing to be alarmed about. It’s just something that happens to a lot of women the first time we – the first time we’re-” She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence.

“Women bleed the first time they have sex?” Fili yelped.

“Not all of them,” Sigrid said and resisted the urge to hide her face in her hands. He needed to know this instead of panicking. “Just some. It’s normal. It’s already stopped. I’m all right.” She reached for his hand. “If it were truly something else, I would tell you. This is normal. It also provides the proof of consummation we need.”

“But I hurt you,” he said in a very small voice and the devastated look he gave her pulled at her heart.

“Yes, but I was a willing participant,” she reminded him and slid her hands up his arms to the angry red crescents on his shoulders where she’d dug her blunt fingernails into him the night before, “and it only hurts the first time, or so I hear.” When his expression didn’t change, she pulled him into the sitting room where someone had lit the fire and left a large tray covered in food for their breakfast. “Come and eat with me?” she said in an attempt to distract him. “I really am very hungry.”

Fili followed her and sat. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’ll be fine, Fili,” she said and started heaping a plate. “Help me eat all this. It’d be a shame for any of it to go to waste.”

~*~*~

Fili had a message sent to Balin when Sigrid hid in the bathing room, intent on cleaning away the mess from the night before. When the old dwarf arrived, Fili explained what Sigrid had told him. Balin glanced at the blood staining the sheets and nodded.

“I’ve heard of this,” he admitted. “I’ll accept this as proof of the consummation. I’ll send someone in to change the bedding.”

“Thank you, Balin,” Fili said and showed him to the door to Sigrid’s rooms. Once Balin was gone, he leaned against the door briefly and stared at the ceiling. Finally, he heaved a sigh and went to the door to the bathing chamber and knocked.

“Fili?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he said. “Balin has been and gone. Someone will be in to change the bedding shortly.”

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” he called back. “I’ll be in my rooms if you need me,” he said.

“I’ll be out of here oh, maybe by lunch. Have I told you I love this bath?”

He chuckled. “Only about every day you’ve used it,” he said. “Enjoy it,” he said and left her to bathe in peace.

~*~*~

Sigrid took her time in the bath, washing away any trace of blood on her skin and trying to calm the anxiety inside her. After a lifetime of conservative views being thrust on her, shaping her life, keeping so much information from her about physical relationships, she struggled with this new stage in her life where things that were spoken of in whispers with scandalous tones were no longer to be shunned at all costs. She still wouldn’t talk about it openly, but with her husband, and maybe Tauriel, she could discuss this new part of her life. Well, after the elf married her new brother-in-law.

Fili was her husband. He treated her with kindness and as an equal. He taught her of his culture and seemed eager to learn of hers. He listened to her and wasn’t afraid to argue against her if he didn’t agree but he was still willing to change his mind if he thought her views valid over his. 

He was also sinfully handsome. 

And the things they’d done to and with each other the night before. Sigrid feared that if she were to dunk her head under the water, it would start to boil from the heat of her blush. Yes, there had been pain when they’d finally joined together, but the blissful heat he made spread quite literally down to her toes and up to her neck beneath her skin had been so intoxicating that the pain had been worth it. Would she feel that way again the next time they joined? Was she allowed to think about that? Was she allowed to want it even though she was still fairly sure she didn’t love him as a wife should love her husband?

She simply didn’t know. No one talked of these things in Dale or even back in Laketown when tongues and morals were a bit looser. At least, no one respectable. She may have been nothing more than a simple bargeman’s daughter but her da had done all he could to be sure her reputation would be intact and no one would find her wanting when it came time for her to marry.

She longed for her mother in a way she hadn’t for years, not since her first cycles started and she didn’t know what was happening. She would just have to muddle along on her own this time.

Which brought her back to the same questions and confusion. She stewed on them for a while as her skin turned wrinkly on her hands and feet. Finally, she heaved a huge sigh, rinsed off any last soaps from her skin and climbed out of the water. After drying off and dressing, she went in search of her husband.

The door between their rooms was open so she took it as an invitation and walked into his space. She stopped dead in her tracks when she caught sight of him. Her sharp inhalation must have been loud enough for him to hear because he turned and blinked at her. 

“Sigrid,” he said, turning slightly and she couldn’t stop her eyes from traveling down his figure. He must have taken his own bath. He was in the middle of dressing, only wearing trousers currently. His blond hair was tied up messily into a tail, the tips wet and dripping occasionally onto his bare back. Only the braid depicting their union hung free and the strands were not nearly as neat as when she’d placed them and she suddenly remembered her fingers catching in it the night before when she’d pulled his head up from her breasts so she could kiss him properly. It too dripped water down his body. She followed the path of one such drop, her face heating when she noticed the four long, red lines running down each side of his spine. She dragged her eyes back towards his face but got distracted by the width of his shoulders, the depth of his chest. Muscles shifted under his skin as he turned and she finally brought her gaze back up to his face. He smirked at her and she started to turn away.

“You can look, you know,” he said and there was laughter just on the edges of his tone. “We are married. Besides, you saw it all last night.”

She squeaked, and mortified at the sound as much as embarrassed by the sight of him so unclothed, she hid her face in her hands.

His hands carefully pulled hers away a moment later. “You don’t need to hide from me,” he said. “Would you like me to put my shirt on?”

“No,” she said far too quickly and not meaning too. She ducked her head, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make the already awkward situation worse. “That is I- you- umm.”

Fili released her hands but not before kissing her palms, one at a time, his eyes holding hers as he did so. “Would you like help with your hair?”

Sigrid fingered her still wet hair for a moment. “Could I help with yours instead? Mine’s unmanageable when it’s still wet.”

He cast a quick grin at her. “I’ll grab my brush,” he said and disappeared into his bathroom. Sigrid heaved a quick sigh of relief, swallowing it halfway through when he reappeared. He dragged his desk chair closer to where she stood, handed her the brush, and sat down.

Sigrid set about carefully unraveling all the braids he wore. Braids that spoke of major accomplishments he’d said, that expanded on the single pattern that defined him. She handed each bead to him and he tucked them into his pocket. 

“You were faster in your bath than I thought you’d be,” he said after she’d taken apart most of his braids.

“Hmm? Oh, I had a lot on my mind and didn’t feel like staying in there,” she admitted, carefully working a complicated set of twists apart.

“Care to share?” he asked, leaning back to look at her. She put her hand on his head and tilted it back forward so she didn’t pull his hair out on accident but also to keep him from seeing the uncomfortable set of her mouth or the awkward clench of her jaw. He must have seen them though because he reached up and took her hands from his hair and pulled her around in front of him gently. “You can tell me anything, you know.” He rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles.

She huffed and pulled away from him but only to go sit on his bed, so much smaller than her own, the one they’d shared. After a moment’s hesitation, Fili stood and followed her, sitting at her side and resting his elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped in front of him. He waited for her to say anything.

She started simple. “I’m confused,” she said and swallowed against the nerves and the feeling of wrongness of talking to anyone, even her husband who now knew the most intimate details of her body, about the most physical aspect of a relationship. So she hedged, dancing around the heart of the matter and scratching the surface at the same time. “I have no idea of how to deal with, well, last night.”

Recognition flashed across Fili’s face. “What in particular about it? That it happened at all? That we don’t necessarily love each other the way you were raised to believe you should be before sleeping with me? Did something in particular we did last night bother you? Did I hurt you more than you told me earlier?” Worry colored his tone at the last.

She shook her head and wondered if she would spontaneously combust from the heat spreading through her face. She could not look at him. “The opposite actually. I enjoyed it, and I was only taught that marriage had to happen first.” She cleared her throat at the sudden choking sensation. “But that’s all that was ever said to me. I had no knowledge of what was to happen. I have no idea what happens now or how I should feel or if what I feel is appropriate or wrong or scandalous or if the things I think are at all things that I should.”

He froze. “And how do you feel?” he asked and there was a note of strain that finally brought her gaze to his face. “What do you think?”

She fiddled with her sleeves, trying desperately to claw over the wall of conservative belief and restraint that defined all she’d known. “I think I’d like to try again,” she finally said in a voice that sounded small and scared and hopeful, even to her own ears, “see if it still hurts. See if it feels as good as it did the first time.”

Fili’s mouth descended on hers less than a moment later. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist, one hand digging into her hair and holding her head in place as he licked his way into her mouth. He fell backward, pulling her down on top of him. She went willingly and rolled until she lay flush atop him. Tentatively, unsure of herself and what she was allowed to do, she slid her hand up the side of his bare chest, feeling the muscles twitch and jump as her fingers carded through his thick chest hair.

“I hoped you would say that,” he murmured when they broke for some much needed deep breaths before pulling her back down into another heated kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments. Leave Kudos. Leave prompts.
> 
> All the amazing kudos you left with this last chapter has put me in the top 20 of the Fíli (Tolkien)/Sigrid (Hobbit Movies) tag when filtered by kudos! Thank you all so much for your support!
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me this long. The epilogue will be up next week.
> 
> Happy reading everyone!


	25. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of all things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. It is just an epilogue. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> I'll handle the rest at the end. See you there!

Epilogue

The evening was a quiet one. Fili worked on a design for the necklace he was making for Sigrid. Magnus lay stretched out on the rug in front of the fire, warming his belly. Sigrid sat in her armchair, a lamp on the small table giving her more light to work. Lengths of cloth spilled cross her lap as she carefully stitched designs and gems into it. He was pretty sure it was for Tilda, but he wasn’t completely positive.

Fili leaned back from his struggle to figure out how to incorporate jeweled alstroemeria flowers into the limited space. He looked up at Sigrid, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair and his cheek on his fist, half covering his mouth.

Perhaps it was the rare quiet moment with no one present to observe or distract. Perhaps it was the serene expression on Sigrid’s face as she worked stitches unerringly into the cloth, showing such a mastery of her craft. Perhaps it was the way the firelight danced across Sigrid’s features, highlighting the copper strands in her hair, the softness of her skin, or the perfect curve of her lips. Perhaps it had always been there, just unrecognized.

Whatever the reason, the feeling that suddenly burned within Fili, sending his stomach into that wonderful falling, tripping, tumbling, weightless feeling he associated with the first stages of their courting, their first kisses, when she’d claimed him after beating a dwarrowdam that Challenged her for his Courtship. Their wedding night when they’d first joined together. The hairs on the back of his neck suddenly stood on end and a smile curved along his lips unbidden.

He loved her.

When had that happened?

“What’s that smile for?”

Fili jumped slightly. Sigrid’s hands had stilled and she now watched him curiously. “Just taking a break,” he answered automatically and shifted his eyes away from her to the sketchbook on his lap, embarrassed at being caught staring. She set her embroidery hoop aside, shifting the excess cloth so it didn’t cover her legs but didn’t trail along the ground. She folded her hands neatly in her lap and just waited for him, her eyebrows slightly raised. He recognized the pose. It had become familiar over the last ten months of their marriage. She could outwait a dragon that already had a horde, he was sure. She would stay that way until he told her what was really on his mind.

He lifted his hands, motioning for her to join him by the desk. “I have something to tell you,” he said, feeling he would burst if he didn’t say something immediately. She stood and walked to him, placing her palms into his. He marveled at the feel of calluses across her fingers and palms and the softness of the skin along the backs of her hands, as well as the occasional scar there from her lessons with him and Nori in knife fighting or from him or Dwalin with the sword. He pulled her gently down, twisting her until she sat on his lap. He stretched up and kissed her chastely, savoring the sweetness of her lips. The strange feeling in his stomach returned as she leaned further toward him so he didn’t have to stretch so much.

“I love you,” he murmured and kissed her again.

Sigrid hummed against his lips and a thrill shot through him at the minor vibration. “Do you now?” she asked, breaking the kiss and smiling coyly at him.

He released her hands and reached to cradle her face, pulling her down a little so he could rest his forehead against hers. “Yes,” he said earnestly. “I don’t know when it happened but I’ve fallen in love with you. I am utterly lost for you and have no wish to ever be found by any but you. I do not expect you to feel the same way, but I wanted you to know of my regard for you.”

“Fili, I…” she trailed off, muscles taught beneath his hands and on his lap.

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “It doesn’t change anything between us,” he said. “I think I’ve loved you for a while and just hadn’t realized. I see no reason why saying it aloud should alter our arrangement.”

She nodded and relaxed into his hold. “It does change things though,” she said.

“Only if you want it to,” he said. “I will not repeat it if it distresses you.”

“No,” she said after a few moments of thought and resting comfortably in his arms. “It’s nice to know I am loved.”

“Then I will remind you daily,” he said and kissed her again.

~*~*~

Nine months later, Fili looked up from his paperwork when the door to his office opened, ready to snap at whoever was interrupting. He needed to finish so he could get home to his lovely wife.

Magnus nosed his way into the room, the door swinging wide against his bulk. Fili watched the door, waiting for someone else to come inside. Instead, Magnus turned and nudged the door with his head until it closed. Then he came over to Fili and propped his large fuzzy head on the dwarf’s leg.

Fili smiled. “I see Sigrid finally taught you how to let yourself in and out of a room,” he said and scratched at the dog’s ears. He went back to reading the report in front of him. He kept rubbing at Magnus’ fur until his fingers hit a rolled up parchment attached to the dog’s collar. He looked down with a frown.

Sure enough, tied with a little scrap of familiar blue ribbon, was a note with his name written across it. He pulled it away from the dog’s collar and opened it, recognizing Sigrid’s tidy script anywhere. He read the five words she’d written to him and shoved the note into his pocket. He picked up his papers and left hastily.

He stopped by Thorin’s office and entered after receiving permission. Balin was there, just as he’d suspected. Good. He held out the reports he’d been slogging through. “I’ll finish these tomorrow,” he said. “I need the rest of the afternoon to myself.”

“Tell Sigrid we said ‘hello,’ laddie,” Balin said, accepting the papers. He’d place them in the appropriate files and lock them away for the night for Fili.

“Don’t make a habit of this,” Thorin admonished absently, his eyes scanning the papers in front of him. He yelped and glared when Bilbo whacked him on the shoulder.

“Leave him be. It's not like you've never skived off early before,” the hobbit said to his husband. “Enjoy your afternoon,” he said to Fili with a kind smile.

“Thanks, Auntie Bilbo,” Fili said with a cheeky grin and left before anyone could change their minds. Magnus walked alongside him as he left the mountain and started the hike up the face along a familiar track.

It didn’t take long for him to find a familiar ridge. He rounded a boulder and there she was, his lovely wife dressed in his favorite sage green dress, sitting on a deep red blanket with a picnic basket next to her.

“I got your note,” he said. “‘Meet me at our spot’,” He quoted and took a seat next to her. He leaned up into the kiss she gave him.

Sigrid smiled against his lips, her hand coming up to delicately run along his jaw, fingers carding through his beard. She lingered in the soft, slow, chaste kiss before turning to the basket and pulling out his favorite foods, including two slices of the honey cake he so enjoyed that she rarely made.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked, happily accepting the plate she handed him.

“I love you,” she said.

Fili set his plate aside and pulled her to him again, kissing her thoroughly. “Darling beautiful Sigrid, do you mean it?” he asked. “After all this time? After over a year of marriage?”

“I do,” she said and laughed when he kissed her again and it quickly turned into a squeak as he pulled her down on top of him. “Here?” she demanded when his hands started tugging her dress up and he reached for the lacings that ran up the back of it. He delighted in the fact she’d worn the simple green one she preferred and that he loved instead of ones that befit her station as one of Erebor’s Princess Consorts.

“Can’t think of a better place. Magnus, go keep watch,” he ordered and proceeded to show his wife just how much those three words from her lips excited him, how much they meant to him, uttered for the first time in the same place where everything had started between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all who have read through this entire fic. That you would stick with me this long is encouraging and humbling all at the same time. It's been over 100,000 words. It's finished. Thank you all for your support.
> 
> Those of you that have left comments. Thank you from the very bottom of my humbled heart. Whenever I find myself struggling with my writing, I go back and read them. You give me courage and self-confidence. I will be rereading your comments for years to come.
> 
> A special note to Apus_Apus. You have been here since the very beginning, my first commenter. Thank you for your input for so long. I hope to continue to see you return for other works. 
> 
> For those that want more. The Bagginshield is started. The wedding night is almost finished being written. Give me another day and it should be up. The Kiliel is in the works. I'm almost done with my NaNoWriMo project (I hope to finish today in fact) so progress for other works should pick up again. I have a few one-shot ideas in progress as well.
> 
> I am still accepting prompts and probably always will be. I look forward to hearing from you all. 
> 
> Please leave comments, kudos, and prompts, no matter how long it has been since I published this. I will look for your responses for many years to come.
> 
> For the last time in this fic:
> 
> Happy reading!


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